


What you got under your shirt (A cog in the murder-machine)

by marlowe78



Series: Teenagers-verse [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Gen, High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 21:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlowe78/pseuds/marlowe78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Highschool-AU.<br/>Jared Padalecki is one of the Golden Boys of Hilldale. He has all you need to be sixteen and is a nice guy on top. If there wouldn't be the mystery of his former best-friend Jensen, who transformed into some kind of Grim Reaper, his life would be boring in its' perfection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a/n:  
> This is my second J2-AU. I've rather started to like writing them, and this is gonna be a tad longer than the last. Once again, I changed their ages - both are sixteen - and I took some liberty with their hometown. "Hilldale" is not a real town, or if it is, I didn't pick it on purpose. I just liked the name.
> 
> And don't be mad at me that this is not a love-story. It just... didn't want to be one. Sorry.

Sometimes Jared thought about what might’ve changed so much. Sometimes, he looked at his once best friend strolling into the cafeteria and sitting down – alone – and wondered why he looked the way he looked now. 

Not very often, though. Most days, he was too busy. Most days, there were Kevin and Steve, Mark, Molly and Haley and of course Mel. Sometimes his other teammates from the Hilldale Hummingbirds. Yes, the name sucked. But that was no reason to play bad basketball, right? So most days Jared sat surrounded by his friends and pals, his girlfriend and her friends, talking shit, laughing about stupid stuff, mocking teachers and each other and sometimes other kids.

Jared wasn’t a callous or shallow person. Not at all. He wasn’t unfair or mean to anyone, at least not on purpose. But he was a teenager, and being sixteen made you all kinds of self-centered, even when you really, truly aren’t. Hormones wreaking havoc in your head and body, strange and inappropriate body-reactions in very inappropriate surroundings, that sort of things. Voice breaking at times when you least want it to, leading to squeaky outrage more often than not. High school was an embarrassing experience, no matter what, and there was no reason to worsen it on purpose. Or that’s what Jared figured, anyway. 

Seemed like Jensen didn’t agree with that wisdom. 

Jared rolled his eyes. Right. Jensen didn’t even know about his wisdom, and maybe he’d been contrary for his whole life and Jared just hadn’t seen it. Who knows. Fact was Jensen’d changed. Dramatically.

It seemed such a short time ago, but it was actually two years since Jens had been on the baseball-team of the school, part of a large group of friends and mates and one of the golden boys of Hilldale. Sure, being in a team that was called Hilldale Hobnuggets was probably a curse, and the fact that, as far as Jared could tell, they weren’t that good on top of that made it worse. But it certainly hadn’t bothered Jensen before. He’d been pitcher from day one and had enjoyed it. Or so Jared had believed. 

Maybe it was the whole puberty-thing? Maybe Jensen just couldn’t deal with it? Whatever. Who was Jared to judge. He‘d shot up in the last year and with close to six-foot-one he sometimes felt so awkward in his skin that he barely suppressed the urge to scratch it off his bones. Only on the field did he feel any kind of right. He sure knew about awkward.

“Hey, J-Man!” Kevin Farland slapped him on the back and tore him out of his funk.

Kev was loud, obnoxious, a mediocre but enthusiastic basketball-player. Small-ish, with reddish-brown curls on his head and lanky limbs, he was more cute than handsome, as the girls kept giggling. He also had pimples on his forehead and chin and that made him insecure and sheepish and he tried to cover it up with being loud, obnoxious and sleazy. Still, he was a cool guy, a good friend and loyal; had a PS3, tons of games and a furnished garage where ten kids could hang out all day without his mom caring. Jared probably liked him mostly for that. Ah, well. And because his twin-sister was Melanie Farland, honey- blond, tall, slim, athletic and a great kisser. She also was Jay’s girlfriend. 

“What’s up, Loser?” Jared asked, reciprocating the slap with a kick to the shin.

Kevin winced and slid into his seat. “Nothing, Asshat. Did you know Powergas married last week?” Mr Pondergast was their English-teacher and had actually been married for two months now. Kev was a good guy, but he was so far behind the gossip that Jared sometimes wondered if it was on purpose. But only sometimes. Mostly, he was too busy laughing. 

“Yes, I know. So should you, we brought him a cake – eight weeks ago.”

“Really? Oh, I thought it was for his birthday or whatever. Ah, who cares. Hey, Mark! Come over here, Sally’ll be here as well!”

In case Mark hadn’t heard him yelling over the noise of half the school, Kev jumped up and waved like a maniac. Really, you just had to love him. Farland was way too embarrassing to be around otherwise. 

Mark cringed a bit – his crush on Sally Peterson was known to all, but the captain of the swim-team wasn’t keen on proclaiming it out quite so loud. Still, the tall, dark-haired boy trudged over to their table, just as Mel, Sally, Deana, Haley and Molly sat down, giggling like girls at sixteen tend to do. 

“Hey, Jay” Mel leaned over and kissed him, and Jared moaned a little as he felt his dick stir in his pants. Damn, that mouth could do things to his best part, like a remote-control.

“Hey” he murmured into her lips, ignoring the snickering girls that surrounded him. Only Lucas Miller breaking his spine with a hard clap on his back brought him up for air. 

“Ow, you dick! Go and fuck Shana, if you have so much energy!” He winced when his own girl pinched his side for the crude remark. But it was well-known that Steve and his girl were doing it, so why not say it as it is?

“She’s with her Dad in New York this week. You know that, I told ya!”

“So? No reason to assault others in your misery” Jared grouched. But his friend grinned, baring his big, white teeth like he tended to do. The guy was very conscious of the fact that his smile was the one thing that made him highly attractive instead of moderately handsome, so he smiled a lot. Only Jared’s dimples outshone his own, but Steve had the contrast between his dark skin and white teeth on his side.

Mark, Jared, Lucas and even Kevin were the cool kids. The handsome boys. The golden dream-team of the school; smart, funny, friendly. Team players in every aspect and leading character in nearly every girl’s dream. They had attractive, well-liked girlfriends (apart from Kevin) and the teachers liked them. They had it made.

Once upon a time, Jensen could’ve easily been their king. But instead…

“Whatcher looking at? Oh, Freako? What’s he done now? New dog-collar?” 

“Leave it, Kev. He’s not bad.” Jared might not understand him anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t defend Jensen. And really, apart from being… weird, Jensen really wasn’t bad. He was silent and looked scary, with his spiky, black-dyed hair, Iron Maiden-shirts and calf-high, heavily buckled boots. But he didn’t hurt anyone, even though he looked tough enough to kick Coach Cocker’s ass. And Cocker was huge. 

Jensen always smiled when they passed in the halls, always returned Jay’s raised hand, the nods and grins. They didn’t really talk, but they didn’t also _not_ talk. He always got a black card for his birthday, pinned at the locker when he returned after summer. And Jensen always got a basketball-shaped card for his. They never wrote anything on it, except sign it with a ‘J’, but that didn’t bother Jay, and he was pretty sure Jensen didn’t mind, either.

“Yeah, well. What’s with him anyway? Like, why does he dress like that?” Molly asked. She had a very interesting fascination with Jensen, always peaking at him when she thought nobody was looking. Jared looked, though, but never would’ve told anyone. 

“Dunno. Just… Maybe he likes it. Whatever, right? Hey, did you get what Crimshaw was getting at, with the assignment? I have no clue about the Berlin Wall. Any ofya know what she wants from us?” 

“Aw, no idea. I mean, does she mean Berlin in Texas or Connecticut? Or which one? And how would those have anything to do with Communism?” 

Jared groaned. He wasn’t that much of a geography-buff, but Kevin really took the cake, sometimes. “Don’t hurt your brain, Farland. I’ll google it tonight.”

-*-

_Highroller23: hey *waves* u online?_

_Padfoot4: hey back_

_Highroller23: whassup?_

_Padfoot4: homework. Fuck. Need my google-fu._

_Highroller23: oh? Math?_

_Padfoot4: Geo. U know abt berlin (germany)?_

_Highroller23: huh? Isn’t that captl of G?_

_Padfoot4: yeah. S as far as I got 2_

_Highroller23: sux to be u_

_Padfoot4: ass_

_Highroller23: u luv me, babe_

-*-

_  
Highroller23: guess what?_

_Padfoot4: what?_

_Highroller23: spoke with my dreamgirl_

_Padfoot4: what? Jessy?_

_Highroller23: yupp. Going out tmrw_

_Padfoot4: \o/ \o/ \o/_

_Highroller23: yeah :D_

_Padfoot4: good luck, man. what else new?_

_Highroller23: thought u need homework ;-)_

_Padfoot4: Cummon…. *puppy-eyes*_

_Highroller23: fine…_

And that’s how Jared spent two hours skyping with Miguel, who’d moved to San Antonio last year. They‘d been good friends, but since Mig left, they talked more than they’d ever done before. Mig’s dad was military, they moved a lot, but the guy had a network of thousands of buddies everywhere, and Jared was pretty up-to-date with most of the Texas and pretty informed about the rest of the US. Just before he decided to quit for the night, Miguel sent him a link to another chatroom where he sometimes hung out.  
 _  
Highroller23: hey, lookatthis! http://www.chat-for-kids-online.com//thread=33309_

_Padfoot4: what?_

_Highroller23: that guy, ‘ace-blue’!_

_Padfoot4: yeah?_

_Highroller23: read, moron. He’s from Hillbilly-dale!_

_Padfoot4: how u know?_

_Highroller23: my chat. Know stuff. READ!  
_

And Jared did. In fact, he stayed up till two to find as much comments from ‘ace-blue’ as he could. When he finally crawled into bed, he wasn’t able to shut his brain up. 

The boy – and it had been a boy, he was certain of it – had talked dangerous shit. Talked about teachers hating him, about how nobody got him. How he didn’t feel comfortable in his skin. How it was all getting so hard, to pretend, to play his role. 

That was all pretty regular stuff. Really, mostly it was issues half his class would have. But the part about ‘getting back at them’, about ‘making them listen’. About knowing where to find the ‘tools to make them hear’ – that’s what made him squirm until his alarm rang at seven. 

That, and the image of Jensen Ackles’ kohl-shaded eyes looking over at lunch, boring a hole into his soul.


	2. Chapter 2

Jared was tired beyond tired. But he had a standing deal with his parents: he got to use the Mazda when his mom didn’t need it and in exchange played chauffeur for his sister, who was fourteen-three-quarters and a freshman at Hilldale High. So he drove. Even though he felt like his eyes were filled with sand.

While he was trying to listen to _30 Seconds to Mars_ and at the same time blocking out the constant chatter from the passenger-seat, he spotted a lonely, black-clad figure on the sidewalk. 

Huh. Right. Jensen lived only two streets over from him. He’d kinda forgotten. They’d once shared the schoolbus, sometimes been driven together by one of their parents. He waved and watched, without being stalker-ish, as the boy trudged through the crisp morning, sometimes kicking up leaves with his boots. He wasn’t sure if Jensen didn’t see him or if he ignored him, but he didn’t wave back. 

Man, those boots must weight a ton, Jared wondered, and those clasps and buckles…. He contemplated if Jensen stood up hours earlier, just so he could buckle his feet. Who’d do that, just to look like … just to look weird? And what kid nowadays wore a leather-coat? He looked like a vampire, but not the silly, glittering emo-vamps Mel kept cooing over. He looked _Underworld_ -vamp. 

Just not half as sexy as Kate Beckinsale. 

Still, that was no reason to kill anyone, right? If you dressed like that in a world of blue-jeans and sneakers, you had to be prepared for drawing attention. Didn’t ya?

But then again, wasn’t that what the chatter had said? That nobody listened? So how would he feel if he played the role of the strange kid and still nobody would listen to you, talk to you, care?

“Hey, stupid. How long’re you gonna sit here?”

“Shut up, Megs” he replied automatically, when in truth he hadn’t even noticed that they‘d arrived at school. Great, another day in teenage-hell.

-*-

“Boy, you look like shit.” Jared’s uncle wasn’t anyone who believed in sugarcoating truths. At least not for his nephew. And he was probably right to say that, considering the glance Jared’d had at his own face just minutes ago in the bathroom-mirror. He was exhausted, but at the same time wired like he was before a big game. 

School had been horrible, and horribly boring. He had tried to pay more attention to Jensen, but they didn’t have that many classes together. Chemistry was only on Tuesdays, and instead of participating in any sport, Jensen was in Arts and Drama. Not that that was any indication of madness, but it lend a certain emo-factor to the whole Ackles-affair. 

What he had glimpsed, the few times he’d been able to, was more of the same he saw in the cafeteria: Jensen was alone. Strolling through the halls alone, sitting alone, listening to his I-Pod alone. He sat in the yard alone, sometimes with, sometimes without a notebook and a pencil. He didn’t speak to others, and nobody spoke to him.

Man, what a sucky life.

“Yeah, thanks a lot, Bill.”

“Ah, you’re welcome, kid.” Bill ruffled his hair, then slapped the back of Jared’s head playfully. “How’s school?”

And there it was. The big opener. The great chance to tell somebody about his misgivings. Not just anybody, but his uncle, who was actually Officer William Thompson, Hilldale PD. Jared took a deep breath.

“Hey, you still friends with that Ackles-kid?” Oh. What?

Jay exhaled. “Huh?” 

“Yeah, you know. Jason.”

“Jensen”

“S what I said. Strange boy. Just booked him last week.”

“What?” Jared squeaked “Why?”

“Ah, shop-owner called, said this kid was stealing. Held him until we came. Man, what a dick”

“Jensen?”

“No, kid was cool. Didn’t say a nasty thing, polite and all. Claimed it was a misunderstanding.” Bill took a sip of his beer, scratching his head. “Misunderstanding my ass.”

“William!”

“Sorry, Sherry.”

“Why not? I mean, why wasn’t it a misunderstanding?”

“Well, your buddy didn’t do nothing. Didn’t steal shit. Owner just grabbed him ‘cause of how he looks, all black and moody and all. He nearly told us when we asked him where his proof was. Said ‘Just look at him, off’cers! He’da have done it, ya just see it in his eyes. Evil, he’s all evil!’” Bill chuckled mirthlessly. Jared was impressed, had always been, in his uncle’s ability to imitate people. Bill sighed, sauntered over to his big sister and peered into the pot on the stove, stealing a sliced carrot. Sherry smacked him at his head and he grinned devilishly. “Sherry-Tarry, plum and sherry” he teased and only turned back to the subject Jared was interested in when the siblings were done with their foolery. “I tell ya what, though, Jay. That kid? Never took a dime. But tell that to my partner” disgusted, the man screwed up his nose and burped, which earned him a grin from Jared and a very disapproving look from his sister. “M sorry”, he said, but he wasn’t.

“So, what happened?” Jay interrupted the newly starting round of swats and chuckles. He knew it would be some time if he didn’t.

“Couldn’t keep him, even though Murph tried real hard to get the kid confess. Man, sometimes he’s such a di… dimwit, Murphy. I’m not sure how the kid didn’t start bawling. Murph has a mean streak, sometimes. Owner dropped the charges when we didn’t get evidence, told Jamie – Jason? Jensen! wasn’t welcome there anymore and that was that. Poor kid. So what, he still your friend?”

Jared dropped his eyes. Shook his head, stopped, shrugged. “I guess”

“Yeah. Well. Tell him he might wanna look less like a psycho-killer in the future. Wasn’t the first time he was with us. Gets pulled in every other week, different charges. Stalking, lurking, stealing – all from narrow-headed assholes – sorry, Sher – people who are too insecure to believe in the actual meaning of “land of the free”. I mean, if he wants to look like that dude from _The Matrix_ , who cares?”

“Well, obviously you do, Billy. You just told Jared he should tell him to dress differently.” Jared’s mom spoke up, not once taking her gaze from the onions she was cutting.

“That wasn’t… I didn’t… Look. ‘S just not very healthy for a teenager to be with the police so often, ‘s all I’m sayin’. Kid gets into trouble without getting into trouble, one day he might not get out of it.” He smirked, a little bitterly and changed the subject. “So, what’s for dinner, sissy?”

“Who says you’re invited? You can cook; I know that for a fact.”

“Aww, Sherry. Common… Puhlease? Linda is with her folks and I am soooo hungry. You wouldn’t make me starve, wouldya?”

Jared went and set one more plate on the table. His mom couldn’t withstand her younger brother longer than five minutes. And actually, the whole Padalecki-clan liked having Bill over. Bill was fun. Even though Jared would have liked the day to end without the added confirmation of Jensen’s problems.

-*-

The evening turned out to be as much fun as those visits of his uncle usually were. They talked and laughed and played some silly game that Megan’d gotten for her birthday last month. It was with laughter in his heart that Jared went up to his room, changed into a bath-towel and went to have a shower. Only when he came back and his eyes fell on the computer did he remember the predicament he was in.

Turn Jensen in? Tell Bill? What would happen? 

Well, if it turned out that Jensen was serious, he would probably get some shrink to look him over, maybe he even needed to be sent into a mental institute. Locked up, like some criminal. Or maybe not, but he would certainly forever be the crazy kid that wanted to run amuck in the highschool. And given how much the public hated kids that did that, not to mention their families… Jensen’s life would be over. Even if he moved away, there would always stay that stain.

Jensen didn’t deserve that. Jared remembered the times they’d spent together. Laughing so hard that coke ran out of their noses; building a trebuchet in Jensen’s backyard, nearly taking out the neighbor’s cat on the trial run. He remembered Jensen at twelve, close to tears when his dog‘d died, how they’d buried the ugly mutt in the woods behind the little creek that ran close to the border of the Padaleckis’ property. How Jensen’d cried so hard when they dropped the damp earth over his old friend’s fur that he hadn’t been able to stop sobbing and Jay’d been scared he’d suffocate.

He remembered the weeks after, Jensen so sad and lonely that Jared’d gone over and asked Mrs Ackles if she wouldn’t consider buying a new dog – he would even pay one half for it. Mrs Ackles smiled and patted his head, told him that it was Jensen who was refusing to get a new dog. And Jared’d told her to just go and get a puppy, because his friend would certainly not refuse a dog that was already there. 

It had taken two more weeks until Jens’d come over to Jared, proudly presenting a mangy three months-old dog with sad eyes and only half a tail, just picked up from the shelter two towns over.

Man, that beast had been one ugly little critter, but Jensen had loved him and the last time Jay had seen it, Izzy – short for Ignatius – had been a proud, well-kept hip-high dog with a shine in his coat and a twinkle in his eyes. He wondered if Izzy was still alive. Should be… five? Yeah, around five years now. He would have heard if Izz had died, wouldn’t he? 

Jared tried to recall if he’d seen Jensen and his dog lately, but couldn’t. He’d been so busy with training, his friends and Mel and school. He hadn’t been in the park or the woods for ages. Maybe Izzy was dead and that had tipped Jens over? 

No. He couldn’t just let Jensen fall. Not like this, not when the police had him listed as the usual suspect already for half the crimes in this city. 

But he couldn’t do nothing either. Couldn’t let Jens run rampant in the school, killing people and shooting stuff. No. Not an option.

Sighing into his pillow, Jared turned in his bed, trying to get his over-tired brain to shut-the-fuck-up already. But it wouldn’t.

In the wee hours of the misty September-night, Jared put together a plan that would take care of both problems; that would make Jensen change his mind about going berserk, that would show him that people cared – or at least one person did. 

He’d get his friend back. 

-*-

Jared’s Big Plan had to be delayed a bit. He’d planned to walk today, like Jensen, and ‘accidentally’ meet him on their way to school. But after Jared’d waited till a quarter to eight and no Jensen in sight, he had to give up and run. Literally run.

When he arrived, he was still twenty minutes too late and sweating like a pig. He was disheveled and probably smelled like he did after Coach Cocker felt the need to punish them for something. Worst of all, though, was spotting Jensen sitting in his classroom when Jay ran past. Shit. How did he manage that?

After a day spent in anxiety – Jensen never said when he planned to ‘make them listen’, did he? – and stressed with pretending to be interested in what Mark and Kevin had to tell, Jared prepared his exit meticulously. He watched Jensen leave, waited only a few minutes and followed. It didn’t take him long to close in on the other boy. 

“Jensen, hey, wait up!” He jogged the last few feet, grabbed his shoulder when Jensen wouldn’t stop. When he did, Jensen spun and nearly snapped his wrist in a move so fast Jared wasn’t sure he even had moved.

“Jesus Christ, Jared! What the fuck? You tryin’ to give me a heart-attack?”

“Ow, fuck. You should talk, man. Nearly broke my arm.” Jared moved his hand a little, hissing when the motion caused a sting. “I called, you didn’t stop.”

“Sorry. “ Jensen pointed to the ear-buds that were hanging on his neck. “Didn’t hear ya.”

“Oh.” 

They walked a few steps, until Jensen stopped and turned to him. “Did you want something?”

“Uh. No. I just… uhm, I got car-ban, for…” Now what could he have done? Oh, yes! “For getting drunk. Or better, for getting caught while dunk. So... I thought we could walk together? I mean, if you don’t mind?” 

Jensen shrugged. “Why not. What about Farland, can’t he give you a ride?”

“Uh, he needs to go with Mel. Shopping.” What a lame excuse. There was no way Kev would consider shopping with his sister. But Jensen probably didn’t know that.

“Yak. Poor guy.” They trudged along, not saying anything. It did feel a bit awkward. They used to be friends, for god’s sake!

“So… whaddaya lisnin’?” 

“Huh?”

“The music? _Iron Maiden?_ ”

“Oh”. Jensen actually grinned. “Nope. _Dire Straits_.” His grin turned into a real laugh when he saw Jared’s face. “I have metal on my playlist, but Knopfler is perfect for walking.”

“Man, you’e certainly full of surprises” Jared smiled as well, but remembered that Jensen’d always had uncommon taste in music, even as a child. After that short show of good humor, though, the conversation ran flat again. Jared couldn’t for the life of him find a subject to talk about. Basketball? Even when Jensen had been his friend, he hadn’t been interested in it. Baseball? Yeah, maybe. But Jens probably didn’t play anymore, and maybe that was a touchy subject? 

Jared peered at the boy next to him, taking in his appearance more thoroughly. The hair that had been black from afar had a blue hue to it, making it shine when you were actually paying attention. Jensen’s fingernails were painted black and the thump-nails where dark crimson. The coat he wore was fake leather, hung over his knees and his boots were even bigger and clunkier than Jared had thought. The kohl was quite a bit more than Mel and Haley used, but it really did interesting things to Jensen’s eyes. Made them shine out from the darkness that surrounded them.

Jared tried to imagine Jensen like he used to be, blondish and mostly mud-smudged, as had been his most common appearance at thirteen. That had been the time their lives took on different routes. Jared had started to notice girls and girls’ legs and ‘assets’ while Jensen had stayed the wild child that ran around in the mud and played with wooden swords out in the forest. Jared hadn’t disliked that, not really. But there had been Rosalyn McAdams with her red hair and her sweet laugh, there had been fun at Kevin’s garage with Mario Kart and Coke and chips. There had been basketball, with pizza afterwards and ice-cream with his teammates. He had been busy growing up.

Jensen’d just slipped under his busy schedule, and Jared felt bad that he hadn’t even missed him, hadn’t even really noticed that his friend wasn’t among his pals until one day, Jensen had turned up with screaming-green hair and wide, baggy jeans. After that, he hadn’t been able to not notice anymore. That Jensen had dropped out of the Hilldale Hobnuggets and the swim-team. That he had sat alone rather than with others, never really looked at any of the girls or actually seemed interested in anything but his notebooks. Kevin joked that he wrote emo-poetry, but Jared was pretty sure he was drawing. Jensen had always been pretty good with a pencil. 

It had taken a while until Jens had settled on an outfit. Screaming green turned into ugly pink and into white-blond. His clothes turned from wide and baggy to old, second-hand-store to stuff his grandpa wore – sweaters, old-fashioned shirts worn open over silly t-shirts and strange hats. Jensen often changed his outfits in the matter of days. This one seemed to stick, though – he’d worn it or similar attire for the whole last year. 

“How’s Izzy?” Jared blurted after the silence and the wallowing in the past got too much for him. And he wanted to kick himself after that, because what if Izzy was indeed dead?

“Hm? Oh, good. He’s been first in that agility-tournament last month. Pretty cool, huh?”   
“Agility? You do agility with him?” Jared was stunned. The last thing he would’ve expected Jensen to do was run around with his dog and let him jump over hurdles and stuff. But then again… the old Jensen would‘ve had a blast.

“No, mom does. I do the day-to-day-stuff, she the fun-part.” That made sense. Donna loved dogs, had always liked them. She was one of those moms that did as much with their canines as she did with her kids. If not more. It was kinda cool, how she managed a family, a dog and a job. If he remembered right, Jensen’d helped a lot in the house to keep them going, and his sister was much less bratty than Meg. Or maybe not.

Maybe the lack of a father made Jensen consider homicide? But then again, his dad had died when he was pretty little, just after his sister’d been born – he hadn’t really known him anyway, had he? Mrs. Ackles had always been a single-mom, and as far as Jared could tell was pretty good at it.

“Hey, where’re you going? Home is that way!” Jared pointed to the right when Jensen veered left, into the park that didn’t even come close to their homes.

“Short-cut. Comes out next to Walker’s garden.” The old Walkers lived two houses away from the Ackles. Jared hadn’t known, but he now understood how Jensen had walked by him without actually walking past, this morning.

They trudged through the park, cutting through some bushes that were certainly not on any path that was intended to be used and shortly after, they were in the woods. Here, Jared actually felt familiarity. This was what he remembered doing as a kid, walking on some narrow footpath through the trees next to Jensen, always looking for treasures.

“Huh”

“What?”

“Man, I kinda expect to find our fort every second now.”

Jensen laughed again.  
“It’s on the other side of the forest. But yeah, that was cool. How many days did we spend there, huh?”

“Weeks, man. Don’t ya remember – Mom asked when we’d finally move out for good” Jared grinned with him. He nearly forgot his Plan, watching Jensen laugh like this. 

But not really. 

“Hey… whatcha doin’ tonight?”

“Uh… nothing. Why?”

“Nothing? Man, it’s Friday. You should do something. Hey, did ya watch _Resident Evil: Afterlife_ already? I wanted to go, but the others already went and if you maybe… You wanna come with?”

“Uh, Jay, man. I dunno…”

“What? Come on, we could hang out, have some fun. I miss you, man.”

“Miss me, huh?” An impish smile tugged at Jensen’s mouth. “That a fact?”

“Absolutely!” Jared said with conviction, and really, he didn’t have to fake anything.

“Ok. Since I don’t have anything better to do…”

“Awesome! Pick you up at seven?”

“You wanna pick me up? I thought you aren’t allowed to drive?”

Dammit. Jared had forgotten. 

“Shit. Maybe my mom…” he didn’t finish that sentence. Apart from the horribly embarrassing experience to be driven by his mom to the movies he couldn’t very well tell her why he couldn’t drive himself. And his mom was extremely nosy. She certainly wouldn’t just let it go that suddenly, just after Bill talked about Jensen, Jared wanted to hang out with him, after two years of near-silence. Shit. 

Jensen smiled, which looked a bit spooky with his dark attire and bumped his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I can drive. I’ll pick you up, then. Your house’s on the way anyway.”

“Cool.” Maybe he could avoid his mom knowing after all. And if not, he could certainly find a suitable lie to explain their re-forging friendship later that night, when Jensen wasn’t around.

-*-

_I miss you, man_

That’d been said to convince Jens. It hadn’t been a lie, but only after they’d parted at the Ackles’ house did Jared realize how true it actually was. He missed his friend, now that he’d seen him again, talked to him again.

When he came home, he clunked upstairs in his boots, not even bothering to take off his jacket either. His Mom called after him that dinner would be at six and he just yelled “Ok” before he grabbed the phone and called the Farlands.

“Yo.”

“Kevin?” his friend had a very unique way of greeting a caller, no matter who it was. “Can you get me Mel?”

“Aw, J-Man. She’s out shopping. Wants to be pretty for you.” Jared heard the smile in Kevin’s voice, but he groaned internally. This was going to be really sucky.

“Right. I’ll call her cell. Sorry.”

“No bother. See ya Saturday?” 

“Definitely!” He’d be dead otherwise.

“Awesome, assbug. Later.” And the line clicked. Jared wiped his face and took the time to take off his boots and jacket. He might as well be comfortable while getting chewed out by his girlfriend. He dug out his cell and picked Mel out of his contacts, hoping that maybe some miracle happened and he didn’t have to upset her. He‘d actually been looking forward to their date tonight. But it wasn’t that big a deal. He could do that tomorrow, right? Or Sunday. 

“Jay, hi.”

“Uh, hi, Mel.”

“Oh no. What’s up?” She was smart, that girl. Three words, if you counted the ‘uh’ as one and she already knew that something wasn’t fine.

“Uh… I kinda…”

“You’re cancelling tonight?” Jared cringed. They‘d had plans to go for pizza and maybe to the fair, or hang out and watch a DVD at her place. Make out, for sure. But he’d grabbed the opportunity with Jensen, and Mel would understand, wouldn’t she?

“Uhm… Yes?” He heard a sigh.

“Well. Fine. Your loss.” She sounded a bit cold now.

“Mel, I’m sorry. Really. But…”

“No, it’s not so bad.” Melanie sighed and she really didn’t sound that mad. Not like she could’ve been. Weirdly enough, it miffed Jay a bit. “Molly and Haley are going to the fair, asked me if we’d hook up later with them. So now I can join them right away. No biggy. But you better have a damn fine reason to stand me up, bugger.”

“I do, I swear.” Silence.

“Well? You’ gonna tell me, or should I guess?”

“Mel… You know Jensen?”

“Of course I know Jensen. Everyone knows Jensen. What about him?” For a few seconds, she was silent. Then “You’re hanging out with him?” 

Jared winced at the incredulous sound of her voice. Was it really that hard to imagine? No wonder Jensen felt mad enough to kill, if everyone thought that way about him.

“Yeah. We used to be friends, maybe you remember? When we were kids?”

“Jared… that was ages ago. Why now, all of a sudden? I mean, fine, if you wanna, I can’t stop you. But why?”

“I missed him.” And again it astounded him how much that was true. Mel sighed into his ear, the slight rumble of the busy mall she was in a steady soundtrack to their conversation.

“All right. Have fun. But you better be there Saturday, or I’ll kill you!”

“’Course, baby!”

“And don’t call me baby, you asshole! Saturday. Three o’clock. You better buy me something chocolaty after, Mister P, or I’ll tell how tiny your dick is!”

She would do that, even if it wasn’t true. Mel wasn’t shy of using teenage-rumors to her benefit, though, and it was hard to prove differently short of dropping your pants in the hall. Some called her ruthless, but Jared admired her fire. She was tough, smart and beautiful, with her honey-colored hair and the trim body. And he was the one who got her, even though half the school wanted into her pants. 

“Saturday at three. I’ll be there, I swear. Go and practice the pompom-waving” he teased, even though he knew how long she’d had to practice to be as good a cheerleader as she was. He heard the outraged cry just before he disconnected. Mel’d eat him alive for that remark. 

He was counting on it.

-*-

At seven, pretty much precisely, the doorbell rang at the Padaleckis. Despite her son yelling that he’d get it, Sharon opened the door. To her honor, she wasn’t shocked for longer than a few second to see a black-clad, black-haired, black-eyed boy with boots up to his knees and a whole assortment of wristbands. Narrow leather-bands, silver chains with skulls and one wide leather-cuff with spikes. Small spikes, but spikes. Metal spikes. 

A chain was fixed on his black jeans, looping from his belt and disappearing into his back-pocket. The chain was probably harmlessly connected with his purse, but all the metal and leather took her by surprise. When the kid smiled, a little awkwardly, she recognized him at once, though.

“Jensen! My, what a surprise. Boy you have… grown” She caught herself, but the slight smirk Jensen was sporting told her the teenager had understood quite well what she’d just prevented from spilling out. _Boy, you have changed_

“Hi, Mrs. P. Long time no see.” He stood in the doorway, shifting a little now that the first greeting was done with. He clinked. 

“Oh, where are my manners. Come in. Jared’ll be here right away. JARED!” she yelled upstairs, like she’d always done. “Jensen is here. Get your ass down. Sorry” Sherry turned back to Jensen. “You want a drink? I might even still got some root beer somewhere. Or don’t you drink that anymore?”

“I sure do, Mrs. P. Thanks. I’m not sure, we wanted to hit the movies, so…”

“Ah, it’s fine. I have some in the fridge. Jared thinks he’s too grown-up now to drink it, but Megan likes it and when nobody’s looking, I’ve seen my son steal a bottle still.”

“Awww, Mom….” Jared groaned behind her. “You know it’s not true. That’s Dad.”

Sharon only snickered, patted Jensen’s shoulder – that little boy really had grown – and gave her own, struggling kid a kiss on the cheek. 

“Have fun. Don’t come too late. Take the key and drive safe. Bye.” And with that, she was gone and left a red-faced Jared and his guest in the kitchen.

“Uh… You wanna drink? Or should we go right away?”

“Na, let’s go. Maybe there’ll be a crowd. Don’t want crappy seats. C’mon.”

Jared grabbed his jacket and followed his friend out, murmuring “Dad drinks the root-beer, I swear” under his breath. Jens only laughed.

-*-

“The kitchen’s different.” They‘d been driving, listening to Metallica on low. Jensen swore it was the mellowest music he had in the car and Jared actually liked them. 

“Yeah. We took the old one out last year. Mom got it for Christmas. She always wanted a lighter one, with a cooking-center and all that. Best thing though? We got to eat out for the whole week the crew needed to install it.”

“Cool. My ‘rents did a do-over with the living-room. New couch, new tables, new color on the walls – the whole shebang. Only thing that stayed? The TV. You believe that shit? I mean, they spent so much money on stuff but they didn’t think about buying some new TV? Who does that?”

Jared laughed and just like that, they were at their old banter and joking. To Jared’s surprise, Jens hadn’t really changed that much. He was still funny, still talked a lot and laughed often. Hard to believe that this was the silent, lonely boy in school. But maybe this was an act? Trying to show Jared how all-right he was, to make him like him? He was sure that there were a lot of cases of people who hid their true feelings so well that nobody noticed. He’d seen something like that on _Criminal Intent_.

-*-

“Well…”

“Yeah.” The movie wasn’t what they’d expected. It hadn’t sucked, exactly, but it hadn’t really blown their minds either. 

“The 3D was awesome, though. And Mila’s always worth to look at”

Jared laughed. 

“Yeah, right. She’s definitely still hot. Man, those pants…” Both boys contemplated the fine body of Mila Jovovich in tight pants for a while, before Jensen spoke again.

“Still prefer the game.” 

Jared let out a relieved puff of air at that. “Man, I’m so glad you said that. The story was a bit low, wasn’t it?” 

They started walking, taking their time. Jared tried to find a subject to talk about, other than his doubts about the wisdom of taking an amuck-candidate into a movie about killing people, even if it were infected people, zombies. Jens’ boots thud-thudded next to him and the _clink-clink_ of the clasps and buckles and chains were distracting him from thinking. He spotted a mother moving protectively in front of her toddler when they passed. Kid should be in bed, what did she get all worked up over, bad mom that she was?

“There hasn’t been that much good stuff on screen recently, I think” was what he came up with. Jensen nodded, turning to him and walking backwards for a while.

“Yeah. _Dark Knight_ was pretty good, though.”

“Hell yes! Man, Bale is really fucking good as Batman!”

“Well, after the Batman’s before him, that’s not much of a competition. Apart from Keaton, the rest was horrible. And the early Batman-movies were a bit lame, action-wise.”

“Absolutely. But I tell ya one thing: Michelle Pfeiffer was the world hottest Catwoman. Screw Halle Berry!” 

Jensen laughed at that. “I so would, if she was available.”

Jared’s ears got crimson and both really laughed harder than the slip merited. But that’s what teenagers did.

They talked about Batman, The Joker, Heath Ledger and other important stuff some more before they reached McDonalds to get some greasy, delightful food into their stomachs.

“So, what’s your favorite screen-hero, then?”

“Mine?” Jared had to think about that a bit. “Dunno. Maybe Spiderman.”

“Really? Why?”

“Hm. He’s kinda cool, you know? He can swipe through the air, fights crime and even manages to have a career at a newspaper.” Secretly, that’s what Jared wanted to do himself. He took pictures of nearly everything and everyone; whenever possible he took his SLR – a present from his Grandpa – and found something worth freezing in time. 

“Betcha having MJ doesn’t hurt.” 

Jared grinned devilishly. “Certainly not. It’s cool, cause Mel kinda digs Tobey McGuire, so we can both watch it. I don’t have to watch schmoopy chick-flicks with her.”

“Really? What’s she doing with you, then? McGuire is what? 5’7’’?”

“Yeah, well. He also gets a shitload of money and is a vegetarian, so that might help with his vertical problems, but we all know that I’m way hotter” Jared smirked and ran into the closed glass-door. 

After he’d retrieved some of his dignity from the giggling girls in the McD’s and Jensen, who was doubling over from laughing, they ordered and sat at one of the tables.

“Dude, shut up!” he growled when Jens still couldn’t look at him without snorting. “It’s not even that funny”

“Jay, man, that was priceless. Absolutely made my day!”

“Yeah, yeah. So, who’s your hero, then?” the change of topic was obvious but successful. Jensen swallowed his burger together with some coke – yak! – and answered at once.

“Benjamin Franklin Pierce.”

“Who?”

Jens stared at him like he’d just announced not to know who Barack Obama was. “Dude! How can you forget Hawkeye? We spent days watching …”

“Ah, oh! M*A*S*H! Sorry, of course. Guy’s great. But. Dunno... Strange choice.”

“No no!” Jensen hastened to say, his mouth full. Again, yak. ”He’s a true hero! He’s not pretending to be someone he isn’t, or hides behind a mask. He don’t has no superpowers, yet still saves people, has a conscience and snark and drinks too much and gets every girl he wants and most of all, nobody can make him dress the way they want him to. And he gets away with almost anything. Also? Best sidekicks ever.” From that perspective, it made some sense. But man, Jensen was odd. A fucking surgeon as a hero? Might as well choose Dr. Whatsisname, from _Grey’s Anatomy_.

“You’re still watching that show?”

“I’ve got the whole set of DVDs. Whenever I can, I watch. You can switch off the laughter, man, that is so much better.”

Jared remembered them sitting on Jensen’s mom’s ratty couch, going through the episodes, speaking the dialogue word-by-word together. Odd, how things change and stay the same at the same time. Jens was still geeking out about that shit.

-*-

“Uh, whatcha doing this weekend?” They were on their way back to the parking lot, stuffed full with fries and burgers and milkshakes.

“Jay.” Jensen stood still and Jared looked over, finding him a little hard to read with all the black in his face.

“What?”   
Jensen shook his head and sighed. 

“Nothing”.

“No, tell me. What’s wrong with that question?”

“Look, it was fun. Okay? I’ve missed you and all, but you don’t need to be all over me. My life is fine and you have your own friends. It was cool but you’re a …. Well, you play basketball. I’m the weird guy. You don’t owe me anything.”

“No, of course not! This isn’t a pity-date, man. We had fun, right? Why’s it have to be either-or? Can’t I have you and the others? Can’t I be a basketball-player with a cheerleader-girlfriend and a weird friend? Is it so impossible?” For a second, Jay forgot that it had been a pity-date, sort of. It hadn’t felt like it even for a minute.   
“Yeah, no. But why now? Why this suddenly? I mean, two years nearly nothing – and I didn’t exactly jump over to you either – and now, out of the blue, you decide you wanna be friends again? I don’t get it. What brought this on?” Yeah. What brought this on? Jared couldn’t very well tell him that he’d read the chat and wanted to prevent Jensen from blasting away in their school. It would kinda defeat the purpose, he was sure.

“Not sudden. I told ya, I missed you. I just… there wasn’t the right time.” Thinking back, he’d thought about going to him, at least twice a week. But something would always come up or he couldn’t think about what to say. “…‘s just… I felt bad. I mean, we were friends, real friends, and I had loads of fun with you. And now we should ignore each other, just because you dress weird?”

“I don’t dress weird!” 

Jared stared at him, his eyebrows up nearly under his hairline. He took a second to look around them, noticing the hidden glances people threw their way. Suspicious, like Jens would start sacrificing babies on the sidewalk any minute now. One woman even crossed herself and switched to the other side of the street. He looked back. The outrage on his friend’s face was so funny, with how dark and strange he appeared that Jay snickered. 

“Dude… Have you looked at yourself recently?” 

Jensen glanced down at his black pants, his boots, his coat. He scowled, shrugged and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was kinda cute, Jared thought.

“Yeah, whatever. Come on, asswipe. Car’s waiting.” 

The Ackles’ drove a very responsible, silver Toyota, which looked ridiculous combined with the teenage-Goth at the wheel. But better than walking, he’d told Jay when he’d snickered at first. They pulled out of the lot and made their way back home.

“So, now that that’s out of the way – what about the weekend?” He couldn’t very well let Jensen be all moody and depressed for two days, right? Who knew what kind of inferno he’d come up with.

“Dude…”

“Cause, Mel has this tournament tomorrow, but Sunday’s free. I mean, or I suppose you could come with, watch Mel and her girls kick some ass?” He was pretty doubtful that this would be a good idea, but better than leaving Jens alone at home.

“Tournament?”

“Yeah, cheerleading-competition. State-wide, or county, I forgot. But they’re pretty good.” He heard Jensen cough “No, really!” he added when he spotted the horrified expression on his friend. 

“Dude! Cheerleading? You’re kidding me, right?”

“Well…” he looked over again. Yeah. Jensen would stand out like a pink elephant in the mall and would probably feel even stranger than one, in between the all-American-dream-teens. He furiously thought of a reason he could cancel that didn’t leave him castrated by a seething Melanie Farland. Whose brother would happily hold him down for abandoning him with the chicks.

“Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not here this weekend.”

“Oh.” Relief? Or disappointment? “Where’re you going?” he asked, just as Jensen stopped the car in Jared’s driveway.

“Fairfield, till Sunday night” Jared stepped out.

“What’s in Fairfield?” he asked before he closed the passenger-door. Jensen wound down the window and stuck his head out.

“LARP” he threw out, grinning like a madman, pretty close to the Ledger-Joker, and drove off, waving his silver-adorned hand in the night-air.


	3. Chapter 3

Jared was bored. Not that watching pretty girls jump up and down, waving bushy, colorful … things was a real hardship, but his head ached and the show kept repeating itself. If he’d had to listen to one more Katie Perry song he’d go and find something pointy and sharp to puncture his eardrums. 

He, Kevin, Mark and Lucas stood in the crowd – not really a huge one either – and tried their best to forget the uncoolness of seeing cheerleaders whirl and twirl. Most of ‘em weren’t bad but not really good, thought Jared in a detached sort of way. Sure, he was morally obligated to support Mel, Sally and Haley and their team, but the truth was that the competition wasn’t that hard to beat. Apart from the girls – and guys, sprinkled through the groups, there were some boys brave enough to withstand teenage-mockery – of Lorneville, the others had stuck to simple songs with a heavy beat to make sure even the last moron could recognize the rhythm. Lorneville’s bouncing folk had impressed Jay and Mike and maybe even Kevin with a smart combination done to Madcon’s [Glow](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bWUtEW-iYhI). 

Jay was pretty sure they’d win. He hadn’t really paid much attention after them, but now Mel and her team was at the start. They’d changed their usual attire to something that was still in their school’s black and white but now the skirts and shirts sported vertical, broad stripes on a white background. They stood still before the music started, backs to the spectators and only when Mel gave a sign with her hand when the noise-level had died to near silence did the music start. 

Two beats before John Belushi’s rough voice growled over the speakers and the girls twisted around in perfect synchrony, swinging the wide skirts with their hips.

_The warden threw a party in the county jail  
The prisonband was there and they began to wail _

_The joint was jumping and the place began to swing  
You should have heard those knocked out jailbirds sing_

_Let's rock  
_

Even Kevin couldn’t help shaking his leg to the swing that the [Blues Brothers](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=plaDFJpOfMs) magiced into the field. God damn, they were good. The choreography was amazing, lots of jumping-figures and rolls and throws and pompom-waving, smartly timed and glitchlessly executed. The jailhouse attire they wore fit perfectly and the rock ’n’ roll left most spectators moving along in the rhythm. It was fast, funny and perfect. When they finished and stood, chests heaving and faces alight with glee, Jared knew they’d kicked every competition’s ass and a glow of pride warmed his chest.

That was his girlfriend, out there. His! 

He took a billion pictures and even when he later went through them there were amazingly many which turned out awesome. He was sure getting good with his Nicon, he allowed to praise himself.

-*-

“Did you see us, did you see us?” Mel kept bouncing around him, even after they’d long won, long been given the trophy, long been praised by the jury. Even now, that they were at the celebration-party. And yes, she deserved this, but it was a bit annoying. Jay’d told her that he had seen it and kissed her and hugged her and bought her chocolate, after all. So why was she still going on about it? 

“Sure, sweets. I did. You did wonderful. Kicked their asses” he said, for, like, the hundredths time today. And of course, this time she’d listen to his bored voice and not his actually words and started pouting. 

He was used to that. She often acted like this after some great accomplishment. He wasn’t sure if he did similar after a big game they’d won, but he didn’t really feel like analyzing himself anyway. So he let her pout and show him her back and not look at him. He turned to Sally instead, who was a bit silly and giggly, but not really bad or anything.

“So, how’s things with Mark?” He’d expected this to be an easy subject, since everyone knew that they both had a crush on each other so he was surprised by her heavy sigh and sad look across the room, where Mark was leaning on the wall, gesturing and already a bit too deep into his beer. 

“Ah well. It’s… complicated” Huh. ‘Complicated’ was usually used as a way to describe ‘not going anywhere’. And Jay’d been so sure these two would be kissing and making out and maybe even fucking by November. 

“Complicated? He’s all over you! How complicated can it be?” Girls. Seriously, what the fuck? Sally sighed again and her eyes were a bit sad, if dull.

“I dunno. He’s just… so shy”

“Shy?” Jared bellowed out a laugh. Shy… Mark wasn’t shy, not at all.

“Yes, asshole. Shy. I mean, we were out and to the movies and all, but he never even takes my hand in public or kisses me. I mean, he, like, tried to kiss me, but … I was so on board with that; I swear, Jay, but he gets all weird and red-faced and all. It’s just… I dunno.” She trailed off and Jared looked over again at his pal. Shy. Mark was not as bold as Kevin, but a fucking 747 wasn’t as bold as Kevin, so that didn’t mean anything. Proved to him only that girls were weird, most of the times. Sally probably just fancied some other bloke now, fluttery as she was. He hoped she wouldn’t cheat on Mark, even though they technically weren’t even together. He waved over to the tall teen and grinned when Mark just slipped on the floor and sat on his butt.

He suddenly thought about Jensen and what he was up to. He had planned on googling larp, but never really did. Maybe tonight. He just hoped that it didn’t involve explosives or guns or stuff. Did Jensen go to parties? He’d never seen him at any school-party lately, but he hadn’t really paid attention.

“Heyyyyy….Paddylicko. You a’right there? Hee, oh, I shink there’sh a … a… uh. What?”

“Mark, you’re drunk, man. Come on, don’t breath on my neck, dude.” Jared shoved at his friend. Somehow, the guy’d gotten off the floor and behind him, leaning heavily against his shoulders. 

“You should really stop drinking so much, man. Your dad’s gonna have your hide.”

“No’ gonnanana care. Noteven shere… Butd you are, righ’? You care, ‘cause you my … my… my buddy, yeah!” Mark grinned sloppily and hugged him, nearly toppling over the backrest of the couch and onto the floor. Jared laughed and shoved at him some more. 

“Yes, man. I’m your buddy. I am. Common, I think you’re ready to go home, ok? Farland! Hey, Kev, I’m getting’ Marky home, all right?”

“Awwww, party’s just getting interestin’! Come on, just dump him at the couch, let him sleep some an’ get’im back lader, ‘kay?” Jared took in his surroundings. There were teenagers slowly getting tipsy, some were making out. Some just munched potato-chips and M&Ms. Music was blaring – Katie Perry – and Mel was god-knew-where. He couldn’t even drink the party better, ‘cause he was designated driver tonight. There wasn’t actually anything that’d keep him here.

He shook his head. “Nope. Go hitch a ride with your sister and tell her to get off her high horse. I’m off. Common, buddy” he hitched Mark’s pliable body over his shoulder “let’s getcha in bed.”

“Cooooooooool” Mark drooled. Yeah. Great. What an excellent night that was. 

-*-

“Mark. Hey, Bud. Come on, we’re there.” The big, white house was close to Jensen’s and Jared glanced over to that. Maybe Jens was home already? It wasn’t too late to drop in, was it?

“Hummmm?”

“Mark, common. Off ya go. We’re home” 

“Home. Righ’.” Mark lolled his head over and looked at Jared with liquid, drunken eyes. Fantastic. He was gonna be all emo again. Mark was that kind of guy. “Shay?”

“Yeah, man. ’m here. Common, Bud, I get you out, right?”

“Shay, you’r sooooooo good. Such a grrreat fr…friend” he hiccupped. “Wanna tell you. You’re good man. Real good.” Jared had rounded the car and grabbed Mark from the passenger seat, trying to keep him balanced enough to move him to his door. Mark affectionately patted Jared’s chest, getting a bit off-course and slapped his cheek and nose.

“Ouch. Careful. Come, dude, not far.”

“Comein wish me? Nob’dy s’here. Varny-… Venny… Versinage… You know. Exshibi… Exhibly…”

“Stop,” Jared laughed “I get ya. Don’t break your tongue, man.” Mark gave him a happy smile and vomited on his front-porch. On Jared’s shoes.

“AW, man! Fuck, that’s… Ugh, Mark…” He really wanted to drop him but couldn’t really bring himself to let his friend fall into his own recycled Pizza. Grossed-out, he dug into Mark’s pockets to get out the keys.

“Dude, stop struggling. Need the keys, man.”

“Lemme, lemme. S’fine, gottit. S’fine. S’fine.”

“Dude, you are so wasted” Jay sighed and opened the door. “Hello?” he called, even though the car wasn’t in the driveway. “Man, you reek. Yak. Come, I (I’ll) get ya to bed.”

After dumping Mark in his room, he dropped the keys on the counter and left. For a minute, he thought again about going to Jensen but then his wet socks reminded him that there were more important things to do. Or, well, not more important but more immediately pressing matters. Like cleaning his shoes and feet.

Grumpy, he slipped out of the sneakers, rolled his socks off with care and drove home barefoot. It was too late to switch on the computer and he just dropped on his bed and fell asleep. 

-*-

Sunday started boring, got better over midday and ended with real fun. 

After breakfast at eleven – the whole Padalecki family believed wholeheartedly in the ‘Sunday is the day of rest’-quotes from the Bible and dogmatically followed that holy rule – they decided that this rainy, sucky day could only be improved by a visit of The Aqua-Splash. Jared agreed and didn’t even mind his bratty sister climbing all over him in the warm water or stealing his rubber-ring for the Giant Slide. While his parents spent lazy hours in the hot tub and under the solarium, only moving for lunch in the cafeteria and a short visit in the sauna, Jay and Meg slid, slippered and swam through tunnels, fake canyons and wild-water chutes. After their skin’d pruned so much that they were worried of never getting it smooth again, they went to Pizza Hut and ate so much that each and every calorie they’d burned that day was back on them. 

Full and satisfied, Jay went to bed and only fleetingly cursed himself for not even thinking about Jensen and impending doom. He was sure, though, that Jens wouldn’t start shooting tomorrow. 

-*-

He didn’t. Instead, Jensen walked into the hall on Monday with a long – Jared did a double-take, along with Kevin and Lucas – skirt and sporting a black eye. Not the kohl-kind either, but a full-on shiner in vivid red-blue-blackish purple.

“Holy fuck! What’s gotten into Freak-o now?” Though he hated to admit it, Kevin pretty much summoned up Jared’s thoughts. “He crossdressing now? What’s next, he’s gonna wear a bra?”

“Shuddup, Kev. Hey, Jensen!” He ran over, a bit scared that he’d somehow done something wrong, or that the weekend had messed Jens up even more. Once again, his friend didn’t hear him over the music in his ears, but he noticed him coming and took the buds out. 

“Jay? Whassup?”

“What’s up? Man, you look…” he took in the skirt. It was black denim, reached to his ankles and had buckles and snaps and chains and stuff on it. It was the least-girly skirt Jay’d ever seen. “Uh… “ he looked up into the expectant gaze – had Jensen always had green eyes? – and stuttered “Hurt. Uh, I mean, your eye?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, ran into a fist. Literally.” Jensen grinned. “Cool, huh?”

“Cool? Uh… yeah. Cool.” He couldn’t think of anything more to that and so he just stood and watched Jensen put his music back on and wave and leave. He stood a while until a caring friend grabbed him and dragged him off to class.

What the Hell? 

Was Jensen being abused? No, couldn’t be. You don’t go around all happy and proud if your parents clock you one. Also, by whom? Mrs. Ackles was nearly a head shorter than her son and he couldn’t imagine her not raising hell if somebody hit her boy. So where did that shiner come from? Did he fight? Or maybe he was beaten up, for looking weird? 

He’d find out. He could take him back in his car after school, their schedules ended at the same time today, he checked.

For now, though, Jared let himself be distracted by mocking Mark over his hangover and trying to placate Mel, who was still miffed about last night.

-*-

“Sorry, guys. I have to run.” He told his teammates, slapped Oliver on the back, fist-bumped Joe and rushed away. He’d spotted Jensen leaving the building, which had been the main purpose for staying so long chatting with his mates. Not that he didn’t enjoy that, the guys were pretty cool. But they’d finished practice early today and the Arts and Drama-class had still been busy when he’d showered.

“Hey, Jens!”

“Jay? What, are you stalking me?” Jared hoped his embarrassment could be taken as flush from the exercise.

“No, man. Don’t flatter yourself. I just… got the car back. Thought you might wanna catcha ride?”

“Uh…” Jensen looked uncertain, then shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

“Awesome! Come on, then.”

-*-

They were driving; a different route than they’d take if they’d walked. The shortcuts weren’t for driving; they had to go around to avoid some one-way streets. Jared kept scrunching his forehead, trying to catch the funny scent he kept noticing. Surreptitiously he tried to take a whiff of his clothes and under his armpits, pretty sure it wasn’t him. Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Dude, do you smell that?” He wasn’t prepared for the glare he got. “What?”

“That’s me!”

“Uh…oh. Uh… sure. Sorry. Uh… what’s it?”

“Patchouli.” 

“Oh. That’s… uh, a great smell.” Holy, he reeked like his grandma’s closet.

“Shut up. If it bothers you, just let me out here!” Jensen glared at him some more.

“Nonono!” Jared tried to placate. “No, it’s just… I never noticed, ya know? I mean… did you smell like it Friday?”

Jensen shook his head. “No. Just in school.”

“Huh” They kept silent for a while.

“So, how’d this cheerleader-stuff go?” It was Jensen, this time, who broke the silence.

“Oh, Mel won. And her team, of course.”

“Good. Congrats”

“Yeah. Thanks.” This was ridiculous. This felt like talking to his cousin Malcolm, a boring tax-accountant who seemed to have no idea what to do with Jay or Megan. Jared decided to just go with the flow, see where it took them. “She’s pissed at me for something, but dude, I have no clue about what. What about your weekend. How was Fairfield?”

“Awesome! Hey, if you wanna drop me off, you have to turn left here.” Jared took the turn just about, nearly knocking a biker from his bike. “Dude! No need to kill people!” Jared winced a bit at the choice of words. 

“Sorry.” He opened the window, stuck his head out. “Sorry!” he yelled to the biker, who flipped him off.

“What’s larking anyway?”

“LARPing. L. A. R. P. Life action role play.” 

Jared’s eyebrows rose to his hair. “Dude, seriously? You play fairy and dragons and that sh… stuff?”

“Shut up” Jensen crossed his arms over his chest, slid deeper in the seat. And Jared was pretty sure that mocking a potential killer’s choice of hobby was so not cool. 

“Sorry. It’s just… Well, I ‘s surprised. A bit.”

“Man, stuff it. You go to your girlfriend’s hoola-group and let me do what I wanna. I don’t give a shit anyway.” And with that, Jensen grabbed the door-handle and jumped out when the car had to stop at a red light. 

“Jensen! Fuck!” Jared hit the wheel in exasperation, drove to the side and ran after his friend, grabbed his shoulder. He had done this before, should have known what to expect. But he didn’t, and Jared landed on his back on the sidewalk, dizzily staring into the clouds above. 

“Jesses – Jared, sorry! I didn’t… sorry. You ok?” In his line of vision, one cloud looked deceptively like a Goth with one wide, black-framed eye and a big bruise covering the other. 

“Uh…ouch?” He accepted the hand that pulled him to his feet and shook his head. Nothing broken, nothing dented – except his pride. Seemed to become a common experience around Jensen. “Wow. What was that?”

“Aikido. Sorry. It tends to get reflexive when I’m pissed. Sanjy says I’ve gotta watch it. You ok?”

“Yeah, fine. No, it’s ok. Look, I’m sorry. I don’t really know anything ‘bout larpsing”

“Larping”

“Uh…yeah. So… Explain?”

“Hum. Well… I could show you. It’s easier. Come on.”

-*-

Right. LARPing – capital letters, Jens had explained, the fantasy-version – is kinda dressing up as knights and bashing on fellow-LARPers with swords and throw balls at them, scream curses – ‘real’ ones, not just swearing, though Jensen had said that there was definitely a lot of cussing involved – and try to conquer or defend a treasure, a fort, a king or queen or a lake. Whatever seemed worthy of defending. There were Masters who observed the rules, all kinds of weird creatures that had to behave according to their ‘nature’ and you could gain points and scores and maybe, if you were lucky, a page could one day become a knight. If he survived that long, because apparently you could die in ‘the field’ anytime. 

Jensen was hoping to get more score-points for one day being able to do real sorcery – he’d explained that he was a dark elf and even though Jared had no clue what he was talking about, he could easily imagine his friend in a robe, throwing balls that were marked with runes at other players. Which was how he got his black eye: someone threw a ball while Jens was sneaking up on him and his fist smacked into Jensen's face on the backswing. Ouch, but Jensen was oddly proud of his shiner.

Jared was holding one of them in his hand now. It was one of those soft tennis-balls, painted dark and had white marks – runes – on it. Pretty simple. He was sitting on Jensen’s bed, taking in the room while Jens was downstairs, trying to weasel some cookies from his mom. 

The room had changed and hadn’t at the same time. It was still painted light-blue, probably had been that color since Jens was born, but instead of the racing-cars and stuffed toys from the last time Jay had been here, there were skulls on the cupboard and fiery dragons hung from the ceiling. The huge amount of books was still as large as Jared’s, but the free walls were covered in Metal-group posters, mainly Metallica and Iron Maiden, but some Marilyn Manson and something that Jared had never heard of but looked creepy and dark were among them. It gave the room a dark tinge, seemed to suck the light out right out of it. 

He went to the boards, checking out the books. _Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit_ – oh, _The Silmarillon_! Cool. 

He kept looking and grinned when he realized that Jens was still a Pratchett-fan, like himself, and also had some Gaiman in his reading-stock. Then there were names Jay’d never really heard of, like Glen Cook or Robert Crais. He pulled a thick book out, with a reddish cover. Huh. _A Game of Thrones_. He turned it around, read the back. Ah. This was the ‘Song of Ice and Fire’-verse Kevin had talked about. Huh. Maybe he could borrow it? Jared put it back and returned to taking in Jensen’s room.

On the closet hung a robe, streaked with dirt. Underneath stood boots, less buckle-loaded than the ones for school, but mud-caked, placed on old newspapers. Leather-pants, just as dirty, hung over a chair. Everything smelled of sweat, mud and smoke. Jens’ ‘school-boots’ stood in another corner and Jay walked over, curious to see how the hell you buckled them – oh. The laces and buckles just stayed closed; there was a zipper on the inner side of the boots. Sneaky!

Jared wandered around some more and picked up one of the swords that leaned against the wall. They were clean, looked well-cared for, and definitely nothing to run amok with. Not if you didn’t want to kill people by having them laugh themselves to death. 

The swords, if you could actually call them that, were made of a long, thin core – Jay couldn’t find out what it was – surrounded by firm foam, formed like… well, like a blade, painted gray-ish brown with something that felt suspiciously like latex. The whole thing was light and easy to swing, and Jared made some moves just as Jensen stepped in.

“Hey, couldn’t get any cookies. Mom said you can eat dinner here, if ya wanna, but no cookies before a real meal” Jensen burst back in, pitching his voice high and imitating his mother’s lecturing tone. He gripped a different sword and held it up.

“Try it. It’s easy, really.” Jared looked a bit doubtful, but attacked anyway. For a while, the boys batted the sword together, getting more and more aggressive as the adrenaline and combative feelings in them grew. Suddenly, Jensen feinted right and slapped the blade against Jared’s back with force. It hurt much more than foam should, at least in Jared’s opinion, and he countered hard. 

When they were sitting on the bed, panting and wincing in pain, Jay looked up. “Dude, this LARP-stuff sounds so dumb – but I think I’d love to come with one day.”

“Why not? There’s usually place enough for NPCs – Non-Player-Characters. What you’d call ‘extras’ for movies.”

Jared grinned. Yeah, not really cool, and he might have a secret agenda, trying to connect with Jensen and all. But still, this? Sounded actually loads of fun. 

It also didn’t sound like Jensen was a loaner. Not really. LARPing was something you did in groups, and Jens had gone on and on about guys named Billy and Orin and a chick named Jaimie, with whom Jensen was apparently playing D&D every Thursday. 

This was getting more and more confusing for Jay. Aikido, LARP… and yeah, Jens drew comics all the time in school and listened to dark music. But when he was sitting on his bed, Izzy’s head on his thighs, scratching his dog’s nose and talking animatedly about his group of friends… Jared started to doubt himself.

Maybe the kid in the chat room wasn’t actually trying to kill somebody? There were lotsa guys trying to mess with others, right? Maybe… maybe it wasn’t Jensen? He tried to think about something the guy had said, something that he could use to verify his suspicions. 

“So, uh… you use that thing for games?” he pointed at the computer on the cluttered desk.

“Yeah, sometimes.” Jensen shrugged.

“Whatcha play?”

“Hmmm. WoW, and some shooter-games. Counter-Strike and of course Resident Evil.”

“Oh. Any good?” So far, the chatter had the same games on his profile, but that didn’t mean anything, right?

“Naa. Too impatient. I mean, Counter Strike is cool and all, and blasting stuff is pretty awesome, after school. But I don’t play much. Mom doesn’t really like it.”

Jared swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. Nearly word-for-word what that guy online had written. Too impatient, mother doesn’t like it. Blasting stuff after school, to vent some anger, which didn’t help anymore. He scratched his neck and his eyes fell on the clock made out of grinning skulls on the wall.

“Oh, damn. Need to get home. Mom needs the car tonight. I nearly forgot. I’m sorry” he stood and tried to ignore the slightly confused and disappointed look Jensen threw him.

“Na, ‘s fine. See ya tomorrow, right?”

“Sure” Jared grabbed his car-keys and left. “Chemistry, right?”

“Yupp. And Home Economics.”

“Ohhh, right. Who wouldn’t want to cook eggs after working with sulfur, right?” they grinned and Jared left, yelling “Bye” into the kitchen on his way out. He wasn’t sure if he heard a reply, the door closed fast behind him.

He didn’t really want to leave so soon, it had been fun. And if the scents from downstairs had been any indication, there would have been something delicious for dinner tonight. But he hadn’t lied. His mom needed the car. 

Jay’d check online tonight, he resolved. There might be more clues and maybe a hint how to convince Jensen to think about his plans. Maybe they hadn’t been plans at all, just some rambling. Could be, right?

-*-

Friday, third week after he’d come up with his plan to stop Jensen from going berserk, Jared was anxious. After the last failed attempts at catching Jensen and either driving or walking together, he had surrendered and just picked him up along the way, mostly shortly before his friend reached the school by himself. But Jay was hopeful that it was the gesture that counted. Jensen at least seemed fine and happy to see him, no matter when that was.

At first, Jared had planned to spend any possible moment with Jens, in the cafeteria, in the hall, between classes.

That hadn’t really worked, though. For once, Jared’s other friends’d demanded their pound of him and he didn’t really want to give them up – they were friends, dammit! Mel had finally gotten over her bitch-fest and Jay was pretty sure it had been the famous ‘time of the month’ and not his fault. She was once again kissing and talking with him and he admitted to himself that he’d kinda’d missed her – even if it was only for a few days. Now everything was peachy between them, and he tried to spend as much time with her as he did with Jens. 

Kevin was still loud and demanding and first he’d kept insulting Jensen until Jay had put an end to it. Firmly, so there’d be no misunderstanding. Steven and Mark had looked a bit astonished at his declaration that Jensen was his friend and therefore off-limits for mockery, and please, could they maybe keep it down when he’d invite Jens to their table. But the girls had only giggled and nodded so the guys’d ducked their heads and gone with the flow.

If Jared had been someone else, he might have marveled about the power a girl could have over a guy, but he wasn’t, so he was just glad that his friends didn’t drive his other friend into a killing-spree. Mark and Lucas had their own problems anyway, with one girlfriend who had to divide her weekends and sometimes even weeks between her dad and her mom and one… well, and Sally.

Sally had broken up with Mark. Jared didn’t really know all about it, just that Mel told him that Sally’d told her that Mark had been too weird and Sally had decided to maybe find someone else.

Not that Jared minded much. Sally had been a chatterbox and pretty superfluous, if anyone was interested in his opinion. Mark seemed to take it a bit hard, but his game had been as good as ever and even though Jay’d really planned to talk to him about it, Kev had said Mark was fine. In fact, Farland had been pretty specific as to what ‘fine’ included: Sheila Rose Himmelberg and her ‘assets’. Everyone knew Sheila banged everything that wasn’t fast enough to duck, so Jared was glad he’d stopped listening after her name was mentioned. 

Jay’d tried to fuse his friends together. After all, they were all of the same age, right? Shouldn’t have been too hard.

Problem that had arisen, though? After one meal with Jay’s friends, Jensen had declined any more offers to sit with them. He claimed it was too loud for him and Jared wasn’t sure if that was the true reason or if the constant giggles from Mel, Molly and Haley and the infrequent heavy blushes that spread over Molly’s face whenever she looked at Jens had made him too awkward.

So, that was the second problem with the ‘spend all your waking moments with Jensen’-plan: Jensen seemed to like his loneliness. 

Was this bad? Jared wasn’t sure, because really, could anyone be homicidal because he himself refused company when it was freely offered? Jay didn’t think so. Still, he tried to give his friend some attention; at least once a break he’d saunter over, sit next to him and peek at his drawings, which were pretty damn cool, if Jay was any judge.

Harsh lines, bare-chested girls with swords and knights in full armor, but mostly it was dragons. Fire-breathing, flying, attacking, virgin-chewing, claw-wielding, huge-ass dragons. They decorated Jensen’s college-blocks, his notebook, his work-sheets. And they all looked so alive and so full of anger and fury that Jay had to suppress a shiver, looking at some of ‘em. 

Did they mean something? Or was it the same thing that had Haley drawing horses on every flat surface she could find? Jared couldn’t tell, and he started to believe that maybe he was in over his head. 

The chatroom-guy – Jensen? – had been quiet the last week. Nothing at all, and when he’d asked Miguel if he’d heard something from somewhere else, his friend hadn’t been able to help. Jared felt like he was standing on a landslide, his feet being slowly but inevitably dragged downhill while his upper body tried to keep the balance.

 

Today, though, he wanted to and dreaded to talk to Jens. Sure, it all was pretty much a ruse to keep Jensen from killing, but he could admit to himself that the new-found bond he had with his old friend was something good. He liked spending time with Jens. Liked watching M*A*S*H and BSG, liked talking about nothing and everything. He loved to hear what Jensen thought about recent topics that didn’t circle around American Idol or basketball and sports. He even kinda liked hanging out with him and getting suspicious looks and sometimes even open disgust from total strangers. It seemed that Jens either liked the evil glances he evoked or he didn’t even see them. Instead, he usually did everything to prove his image wrong, picking up trash that wasn’t from him, tipping street-musicians, vacating seats for elderly people and helping mothers getting the pram into the bus. He especially loved that one. Both boys had started to live for the moment you could read the mother’s shock in her face when she found out that the dark, dangerous individual wasn’t trying to steal her baby but instead help her. Most women were completely thrown, their world turned upside down so much that they didn’t know how to react. Jared usually took a picture of those faces. They were priceless.

Jens was interesting, smart and had a startlingly biting sense of humor. Ok, his music kinda sucked, but Jared kept a straight face assuring Mel that no, really, Katie Perry was an awesome musician, so he was pretty sure his ears could tolerate bass-heavy screaming. 

And Jensen was considerate enough to not play it too often, usually only when they played PS3. Jay didn’t even have to ask for mercy, music-wise. 

It was no hardship to spend time with Jensen. But he dreaded it nonetheless.

Today was Friday, and he had a game to play. He’d nearly forgotten, even though he’d had to go to training basically every afternoon, had in fact complained to Jensen a lot about that. Fuck. 

Problem was that he and Jens’d made plans for the weekend. He’d said he’d go on one of the LARPs with him, a small one, but he’d been looking forward. How he could just forget his game against Clarkstown was beyond him. He’d been hearing about it from his friends and his coach and his girlfriend, who showed him her moves for the cheerleading her team was preparing.

Shit. Shitshitshit-double-shit.

“Hey, Jay.”

“Gah – FUCK” He accidentally pressed the horn when Jensen opened the passenger-door and climbed in, like he often did when they met at the light at Fleeway-and-Grand-Street. “Fuck, man. I think my heart stopped beating for a second.” 

Jensen chuckled, not even pitying him a minute. “Dude, why so jumpy? You been up in pink-frilly-lala-girlfriend-land again?”

Jared swallowed. “Yeah. Somethin’ like it.”

He drove on, graciously restraining from raising a finger at the guy behind him in the Honda Accord who’d been flashing his lights for a while now.

“So? Whassup?”

“Uh… Jens… I kinda. I think I messed up”

“Oh? How?”

“Well, I swear, I have no clue how it coulda happened, but I… I can’t go with you Saturday.” Jared refused to meet Jensen’s eyes, didn’t want to see the hurt in them.

“Why?” Jensen sounded pretty calm. Still.

“I…I forgot. We have a game. Clarkstown?”

“Oh. Right, that’s Saturday. Huh.” Now Jay did glance over. Just a peek. Jensen sat still, looked through the windshield and didn’t really show much. His face, still hidden behind layers of kohl, didn’t give much away on a good day, but now he was practically blank. Just when Jay decided to say something, a frown and then an angry glare crossed his friend’s face, aimed to something on the street apparently but could have been meant for Jay just as well. 

Jared looked out, didn’t see much to glare at except some teachers and some of the Hummingbirds.

“Jens?” Jensen startled a bit, like being woken from a dream.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Naw, it’s fine. Maybe I can get a refund of the payment. Think there’ll be tickets for the game still?”

“I dunno. Probably.” He glanced over when they exited the car, trying to see something certain in Jensen’s face when he locked the doors. But he couldn’t spot anything. “Ok. Well, we could always go next time, ok?”

“Sure. No prob.”

“What about tonight, though? Any plans?”

“Jay, I toldya. I have Aikido on Fridays now. You complained two times about it already” this time, it was clear exasperation in Jensen’s voice and face.

“Right, right. Ok… uh. See ya this afternoon, then? Oh, no, right. You go to your kickboxing straight after, I know that!”

Jensen grinned. “Dude, you’re horrible with plans.” He turned and walked in the direction if his classroom, turning around and walking backwards a second to yell “And it’s aikido, assmunch!”

-*-

Jared was pretty sure he’d be fretting about Jensen’s attitude the whole Friday, but truth was, he was too busy. Mrs. Allen had them doing a surprise-quiz, which needed bitching over afterwards, Mr. Hayami yelled at Jared and Kevin because they were bitching – during Spanish, which was probably why he’d used some pretty strong Spanish words that Jay hadn’t previously known and had them both staying longer to clean the classroom. When they’d finally done that to his satisfaction, the cafeteria only had some chewy roles with cheese left and some soggy blades of lettuce. After school, Coach Cocker chewed Jay and Mark out for being somewhere ‘over the pretty, pretty rainbows’ and not in the game where they were desperately needed – his words – and Mark chewed Jay out for standing on his toe. Seriously, what was wrong with that dude? You should think finally getting laid would mellow him up some, but noooo. Marky Mark was still a prickly ass. It wasn’t really surprising that, when Jay told him so, Mark clocked him one. 

Cocker was fuming at them after training, calling their parents – well, Jared’s parents because lucky for Mark, his family was off visiting grandma – and having them run laps until they nearly collapsed. Then the coach called the family again and had them picked up. Jared’s mom drove both of them home, being silent and glaring at them through the mirror, because ‘if you behaved like kindergarteners, you don’t get to ride in the front, and be glad I don’t make you sit on the kiddy-seats!’

Great day.

-*-

The game had sucked. Well, honestly, the game had been ok, but Jared had sucked and Mark had sucked and Kevin wasn’t that good a player on a regular day and Lucas and the rest of the team hadn’t been able to rescue the poor performance. Even the cheerleaders had been subdued in their cheering.

Shit.

After they got their asses handed to them by Cocker – and rightly so after a 48:16 loss – Jay had been bitchy, moody and sullen for the rest of the evening. His dad had been nice and all but he’d brooded in his room, sure that the world was ending and he’d never be allowed to play ball ever again. 

That didn’t happen, of course. Instead, the coach called on Sunday morning, ordering Jared to school for extra-practice. He wasn’t alone, Mark and some of the team were with him, but he knew Cocker had him doing more than the others and he hated him for it. 

Exhausted like never before, he got home, dropped on the couch and slept until dinner. His parents had been nice enough to let him rest and now he was feeling riled-up and moody and wide-awake.

After he’d shoved Megan, his dad grabbed him and took him out, running with him in the park. He hated his dad, even more than Coach Cocker. 

“Jared, what’s up with you?” Gerald asked when they stopped to catch a breather. “I know you didn’t play like you can, yesterday, and it was… well, it was a pretty horrible game, honestly. But that’s no reason to be that much of an ass towards us, and certainly not to your sister. Is everything alright? Did you have a fight with Mel?”

“No” Jay sulked.

“That’s not good enough, buster. We can run some more, if you want?” It was a challenge, and Jared felt just bratty enough to take it on, but he couldn’t even walk without huffing. So he hung his head and shrugged, the usual answer any grownup will get from his kid during the time-span between thirteen and twenty. He heard his dad sigh and felt like an ass. But he couldn’t even say what was wrong with him to himself, certainly not to his dad. 

It wasn’t just Jensen. He liked Jensen, more than he’d ever really remembered. His friend was much more witty and fun to hang out with than Kevin and Mark and Lucas. And maybe that was it? He felt his friends slip away from him, like Jensen had done before. Only this time, he noticed it and it hurt. 

Jay watched his teammates thinking about girls, sex and girls, driving and drinking legally. They played basketball, swam and talked big, just like they’d always done. But now he felt apart, detached. He felt closer to Jensen than he ever did before, and this was so fucked-up because he believed his friend was capable of killing people and the whole scheme had been just that – a scheme. He’d wanted to pretend to be Jens’ friend – no, not true, he really wanted to be Jens’ friend, just not to the extend it was now.

Jay felt ripped apart. What if he couldn’t prevent him running amok? What if all was for nothing? If Jensen didn’t consider their friendship worth abandoning his plans – what if Jensen was simply crazy? Maybe Jay wasn’t helping at all? 

Truth was, he knew he was betraying his friend by not being honest, and every day made it worse. Every minute they spent together made him feel more like crap, and he wanted to talk to the one person he knew would listen, except that that one person was Jensen himself. Which was why he’d just run off after the game, even though he’d seen Jensen sitting in the crowd and come down after to cheer him up. 

And that he’d turned away and pretended to not see him made him feel like the dog-shit under his soles.

“I don’t really know, Dad. I swear.”

A heavy sigh. “Okay. But Jay?” Jared looked up “If there ever is something you need to talk about, please… remember that me and your mom, we will listen. We might not like it, we might not agree. We might yell at you, but we will listen. And we are your parents: you don’t ever doubt that we love you. Hear me?”

Jared blushed “I know, dad”

“Good. Now, let’s get home. I feel like my own father right now. Shower and bed, it’s already ten and there’s school tomorrow.”

 

Back home, Jay turned on his computer. He’d check for messages after the shower, only once. He didn’t want to, really, but he’d been a dick yesterday and maybe Jens wanted to talk about it. He could send a message, tell him he was sorry. Maybe his friend would get it before school.

When he came back from the bathroom, wet and warm and sleepy, he only wanted his bed. Still, he opened his mail-account, just to be sure. Wouldn’t even take a second, right?

Nothing from Jens, but Mig had sent an e-mail.

_”Dude! Check that chatroom! The crazy is on again!”_

With a heartbeat double its usual speed, he clicked on the bookmarked chatroom. Found ‘ace-blue’ right away, not difficult with the tons of exclamation-marks behind his posts. Paling, Jay read things like ‘kill’, ‘show ‘em’, ‘as many as I can’. And the word that kept burning itself into his eyeballs was ‘tomorrow’.

When he looked at his clock, at nearly two, he was hyper and scared and twisted inside like he’d never been. This was dangerous, madness. He’d tried to reason with the guy – Jensen – without exposing his identity. He’d followed as much as he could of the chat’s history, trying to find the trigger. The guy – Jensen – kept talking about Saturday, how everything was wrong, how much Saturday had taken the cake to every insult, every hurt, every time he’d been overlooked, ignored. How the whole week had been horrible but it’d been Saturday that did it, that showed him the truth. And that he was gonna end everything tomorrow.

Jared leaned back in his chair, ran a hand through his damp hair. He’d call Bill, he resolved. Or maybe Jensen. Yes, he’d do that. He’d go and tell his dad, his mom, they’d know what to do. They’d…

Jared fell asleep on his keyboard at a quarter to three and didn’t wake until his sister slammed the bathroom-door at half eight the next morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a/n: Close to the end. Here be violence. Lots of violence. Bloodshed. Terrified teenagers. Someone with guns in a Highschool. So if you might have been in such a situation (god, I hope not!) you might not want to continue.  
> I've never been in such a situation, and I have no clue about the deep-set bravery people might develop in a tight fit. I'm kinda counting on this being, if not probable, then at least possible.

All his protests, all his trying to get his parents to listen had been in vain. Dad had left in a hassle, just time enough to scold Jared for waking up so late and looking ‘like death warmed over’ and his mom stuffed a buttered bread in his mouth and shoved him into the car with Megan. She said something about needing the Nissan today and didn’t listen, didn’t wait for Jay to get his cell-phone from his room. His idea to stop at a payphone was completely ignored and now he stood in the school-hall, shaking in fear and anticipation.

What to do, what could he do?

Oh, right. Find a teacher. Yes, he’d go to the principal, Mrs. Washington had to listen to him. She had to, it was a real threat, and even if it turned out to be all fake and not worth bothering, he’d at least finally done what was necessary, finally woken up enough to take responsibility for his knowledge.

Jay made his way to the teacher’s lounge, on rubbery legs, feeling like he was under water. Everything seemed to be muted, the kids around him didn’t register and their voices didn’t carry. 

He was halfway at the lounge when he spotted Jensen.

His brain stopped processing for a minute. His friend – the maniac? – walked with sure steps, a hard, unreadable look on his face. He wore black jeans, his boots and his long coat. His hair looked dark blue in the harsh halogen-light of the corridor and his eyes were dark-rimmed as usual.

For the first time since finding the chat, Jared thought Jensen looked dangerous.

In the end, it was a split-second-decision. He couldn’t just stand by and let Jens walk away, carrying death with him. He called out.

“Jens!” To his surprise, Jensen stopped and turned around. Later, Jay would think it should have been a clue, but right now he was just glad that he got the maniac’s attention. Well, ‘glad’ wasn’t actually the word he’d use, but now that Jens ‘d turned… “Stop, don’t do this. Please.”

“Jay? What’s up?” Jensen stopped, took the ever-present ear-buds out and squinted a bit, taking in Jared’s appearance “You look sick, man. Shouldn’t you be in bed or somethin’?”

“Please, Jens. I know. Ok, I know. I should have… I shouldn’t have let it go so far, I know, but… Please, please, reconsider. Stop this, it’s not too late. Please!” Jay shook with the strain, with his fear and adrenalin, standing only a few feet apart from a madman with a gun – or worse, explosives. He nearly fainted when Jensen stepped closer, peering into his eyes. He got a good view of the golden-brownish specks in the green iris, the blackness of the pupils, the white of the eyeballs.

“Huh?”

Jared averted his gaze. Unconsciously mimicking a dog that tried to be as unthreatening as possible. “Jensen…”

“Jay, what’s wrong with ya? What should I reconsider, man?”

“Don’t… don’t use it. Please, I know you...I know how you feel. I read the chat. I’m ‘padfoot’.” 

Jensen didn’t look pissed. Just puzzled. 

“You’re a what now? What chat? Jay, I have no clue whatcha talkin’ ‘bout. Dude, you’re shaking – man, maybe you should go to the nurse? Jay?” Apparently, Jensen wanted him to spell it out. Ok, if that kept him from killing anyone – anyone but Jared himself, but hopefully anybody – he’d write it on the fucking walls. Jay took a deep breath, tried to calm down a bit, keeping his eyes carefully on Jensen’s studded dog-collar around the neck.

“I’m sorry. I read the chat, Miguel showed me. I… I thought you might be persuaded to… if you realized that your’re not alone, that there’re people who care, who would listen… I thought maybe I could prevent you from going all the way. I’d hoped… I’m sorry. But then Saturday, and I was such an ass. I shouldn’t have let you just stand there, shoulda talked to you. But I didn’t, and I’m sorry, and I… if you wanna kill someone, it should be just me, nobody else. I mean, I messed up, it’s my fault. I shoulda talked to somebody, getcha help or somethin’. I didn’t. So… please, don’t do this. Please, Jens. Please.”

-*-

Much, much later, when all that happened had time to settle down, time to go through Jared’s brain a second time and a third and get processed and analyzed, by himself and by the psychiatrist – that much later, Jay would be able to name the emotions that flickered over his friends face. Deep puzzlement, concern. A hint of fear and shock. The deep, deep hurt.

But right now, right there in the school’s corridor, only the anger registered.

-*-

“Wait. Waitwaitwaitwait. Jared, are you really tellin’ me what I think ya tellin’ me? You think I’m gonna shoot someone? And you’re tellin’ me that you thought so for all the time, that all your … your friendship… that’s all been a lie? That’s all just ‘cause you read some … some what, some chat? And now you think I’mma blow up the school, or somethin’?”

“It wasn’t a lie…” Jared tried to interject, tried so hard because it was true, it hadn’t been a lie, not really, not deep down. And he knew it was important to say it. But Jensen didn’t stop his tirade, didn’t listen in his outrage.

“How could you! How can you stand there, how could you hang out with me thinkin’ I’m some lunatic, thinkin’ I’ll hurt someone! How… why? Why, Jay?” This time, Jared heard the pain in his friend’s voice. It was clear and obvious. He looked up, finally meeting Jensen’s eyes – and he knew he’d made a mistake.

There wasn’t any homicidal madness in his friend. There hadn’t ever been. He’d spent so much time with him, talked to him. He knew, dammit, that Jensen wasn’t unstable, just like he knew that Jens didn’t steal stuff, didn’t torture kittens or grab babies from their cribs. He’d known all along, but he’d been blinded by the same things all the strangers, all the people he himself’d called superfluous and condescending assholes had been blinded by. 

Black clothes, dark kohl and some silver clasps and buckles.

Jay felt his heart drop a mile deep, right into hell and through to the other side.

“Oh no…” he whispered, too low for anyone to hear, too low for Jensen to register. Jensen’s face fell when he realized himself what and why. He looked down on himself.

“It’s this, right?” he asked, grabbing his black shirt and shaking it a bit. His voice was small, hurt. “You said it doesn’t bother you, said that… But you’re just the same. Same as everybody.”

“ Jens… I’m… I… I’m sorry. I…”

“Right. ‘cause there can’t be anyone sane, walking around like me. I get it.” Jensen turned away, gripped his backpack with white knuckles and shook his head.

“No, Jensen… Please. Please, I’m sorry, please. But…Jensen! Stop, I’m beggin’ you, Jens!” His friend’d started to walk away. Jared tried to grab him, tried to stop him, needed him to stop because… because not only had he hurt Jensen… there was so much more. So much worse.

“No,” Jensen roared “let me go! You… you lying ass-“

A shot rang through the halls of Hilldale High, resonated in the ceiling and in the tube-lighting, rushing through the rooms and halls and corridors, eventually fading into nothing at the Arts and Drama-classroom. 

-*-

Nobody who’d ever heard a real shot would think it was anything else, like a car or firework. The sound is different, the resonance and the vibrations tell your body that this? This was the real deal, the real danger. Real death. 

Jensen stood stock-still, staring at his friend who was as frozen as himself. The minute it took for them to move was enough for all the kids around them, all the people who’d been walking by, joking, teasing, yelling – all those that were close to the teacher’s lounge when the door opened to realize what’d just happened.

A second shot. A sharp cry. Screaming.

-*- 

That September-day was a lucky day for Mindy Ellerman. Her parents would tell her so, again and again and again until she believed it herself. They’d thank heaven and God and Allah and Shiva and every other deity that they could think of for the circumstances that allowed them to keep their only child.

But for a while, all Mindy would be able to say was that it was the day she dropped instinctively to her belly when she spotted the boy leaving the teacher’s lounge on stiff legs, wooden movements and cold, cruel determination on his face. That it was the day that from the new vantage-point, she had a clear view on the bloody mess that had once been swim-coach Lindman Johansson’s head. 

Mindy would not speak again for two years. Even though she was lucky for dropping at once, lucky for not making a sound, she’d wish to have done differently. Done something to prevent her best friend, Laura Keller, fourteen-and-a-half, who loved puppies and kittens and liked _P!nk_ better than _Lady Gaga_ and who’d been walking beside Mindy, from dropping dead on top of her. Killed by a single shot to her chest. 

-*- 

That third shot finally woke up the stunned school. Bloodcurdling screams intermingled with shouts of pain when more shots rang out. Yelling and shoving, panic all over, pandemonium. Teenager’s kept pushing each other, trying to get away from the bullets, trying to run to safety. Some dragged their friends with them, some – to their everlasting shame and unrelenting guilt – shoved their friends away, out of the path to freedom, possibly into the path of death. Here and there a teacher tried to get some order in the chaos, sometimes successfully but often enough fighting against windmills. Because you can go to as many ‘terrorist and amok-related contingency-drills’ as you want, nothing can prepare you for watching your pupil drop unconscious, bleeding heavily in front of your feet. 

And the boy with the gun kept walking, kept shooting everything that stood in his way. Teachers and students – it didn’t matter to him.

-*-

“Mark” Jared whispered, shock and horror nearly robbing his voice. 

He didn’t see the blood around him, didn’t understand the sight right in front of his shoes – the sight of mute, frozen Mindy and dead, cooling Laura. The only thing on his mind was Mark drinking. Mark vomiting in front of his empty house. Mark slowly disintegrating those last weeks and nobody seeing, nobody understanding, nobody listening.

 

That split-minute would forever be in his mind. That sudden and deep realization of how wrong he’d been, what it had cost to err so tremendously would be what Jared thought of during his last breaths. When he died, surrounded by friends and family, Jared would say ‘I’m sorry, Mark’ and nobody would understand what he meant. 

Nobody but one.

-*-

“Jay, Jay, come on, wake up. Jay!” Jensen, shaking him, pulled him back to the moment, to the chaos that surrounded the two friends. “Jay, come on, we need to get out. Jared!”

“Megan…” Mark had gone the way to the younger classes. He might not seek them out, but they were in the path of danger, right in the path of destruction that Jared on his high horse had opened up. Instead of going with the flow, Jay took two steps in the direction Mark had taken, not deterred by Jensen’s insistent yanks on his arm. “Megan’s that way!” he yelled and stopped walking, started running. 

Distantly, his brain registered that heavy boots were following him but he didn’t consciously know it. 

-*-

It wasn’t hard to figure out where Mark had been. Dead and wounded school-kids lined the corridors, whimpering teenagers and crying younger kids clinging to each other in fear even though they’d been lucky, been overlooked. Jared had slowed down but was still determined to stop Mark from killing Megan, no idea how but sure – certain – that he’d somehow manage. It was his sister, his little bratty sister. Nobody messed with his sister but Jared himself! 

Now that the first shock, the first rush had passed, he knew Jensen was following behind, sometimes right next to him but often stopping, helping some kids to their feet, sending them along to the exits. He heard him talk, saying stuff like ‘this way, not so bad, it’s over, just get out, it’ll be fine, sweety’. Sometimes, he’d miss the solid thudthudclink close to him but always the boot-steps would return, his silent companion coming back to him, supporting him in his own madness. 

It felt like they’d walked to New York, like miles and miles of death and pain but in reality, it was only a short way to the cafeteria, where a lot of kids usually started the day ‘cause it wasn’t cool to take a lunchbox with you when you turned fourteen. 

Meg hadn’t been anywhere they’d passed, but now Jay’s trek ended. 

Inside the wide, open cafeteria, Mark stood on a table, holding two guns out and keeping about ten kids of various age and the school-counselor at gunpoint. They didn’t dare to move, a whimpering boy and his crying, bleeding girlfriend proof enough what would happen if they tried to run. 

“You bitch!” Mark screeched at Norma Jenkins, the counselor. “It’s all your fault! You stupid, ugly, ugly, disgusting whore!” 

Jenkins was crying freely, terror marking her round but handsome features. She was about sixty and more the grandmotherly type. Jared had thought she was a bit too sweet for the job of counseling teenagers, too old-fashioned to keep up with pregnancies and modern-day views on sex. But he couldn’t imagine why she deserved Mark’s fury, for it seemed that she had been his goal all along.

“Mark, please. Please, p-p-please. I’m s-s-sorr-r-r-y…” she stuttered but Mark didn’t hear or didn’t care.

“I told you! I told ya, I trusted ya! But all you did, you selfish old bag of g-g-garbage…” It couldn’t be a good sign that Mark was stuttering, Jared thought. He and Jensen had crept closer, and Bill would later very sternly tell him how stupid, how dangerous, how absolutely, monumentally moronic that was, but right now he didn’t know that, didn’t really know why he was getting closer to the gun in the first place – what he’d do if his friend would suddenly spot them and open fire. 

Jared would also wonder why Jensen was still behind him, even though his own sister, two years younger than Megan, was safely away in Hilldale Middle School. He didn’t know it then but later would recall that there wasn’t actually anything worth sticking his neck out for Jensen. 

He’d get his ass kicked by Jens for saying it loud. Later, much later. 

“You knew. You kne-knew and… and didn’t do anythin’. You … _hick_ you _hick_ old, stupid, dried-out _hick_ old cow. I h-h-h-hate you. H-h-h-hate you _hick_ all!” 

“No”, Jared wanted to scream. “Stop, don’t”, he wanted to shout, stop his friend the second he realized that Mark would pull the trigger. He wanted to, nearly did so but a strong hand clasped over his mouth, muting his protest, and pulled him behind an overturned table close to the entrance. Jay didn’t struggle that much.

 

Mrs. Jenkins dropped like a bag of rice, shriveled bonelessly into a pile of human flesh and old-fashioned clothes onto the already bloodied tile-floor. The ringing of the shot resonated in the ceiling-tiles and lamps, only dimmed when a girl started to scream. 

 

“No!” 

“Mel, shut up!” another voice hissed and Jay, to his utter terror, spotted Melanie and Kevin, who’d been hiding together with Sally and Molly behind some tables in the corner.

Mark's gaze flicked to them, his grin wolfish, manic. It seemed that executing the counselor’d ripped the last shred of sanity from him. There was no sign of the scared, angry and pitiful kid anymore. Instead, all Jay could see was a cold, ruthless and determined killer. Now, he started to struggle, but Jens kept him confined in their corner with surprising strength.

“Farland." Mark sing-songed mockishly "You dick. You shoulda been dropped into a river after birth.” Astonishingly, Kevin didn’t back down when the gun was pointed at him. He set his jaw and stood tall – still half a head shorter than Mark himself – and shoved his twin-sister behind him.

“What… what’s wrong with ya, Mark?” It probably should have been a challenge, but Kevin sounded scared and small. Still, he kept his position in front of the girls who cowered shivering against the wall, except Mel who stood erect and fierce. 

“Aww, what now? You wanna play ‘big man’? All hero-like?” The taller boy hissed at Kevin. “Yeah, right. You wanna be a hero so bad, I get you a heroes funeral!” He swung both guns to Kev’s head, not caring that most of the other kids took their chance and scrambled away, out of the room, and luckily not noticing that they did so because Jensen and Jared gestured them to do it while they themselves cautiously crept closer to danger.

Jay saw Kev shudder when both barrels pointed right to his eyes and even from some feet away he smelled the sharp tang of urine.

 

Mark scoffed, an arrogant chuckle accompanying his glance to Kevin’s crotch. “Thought so, big hero. Pisses his pants like a pansy.” He grabbed his former friend by the neck of his shirt, stuck one gun in his mouth – and Kevin crumbled to the floor, unconscious. Mark’s aim followed him down, the pistol still pointing to his head.

 

“No! You Bastard!” 

“Mel!” a hiss from someone, maybe Sally, maybe Molly. Maybe even from Jay himself, he couldn’t tell.

“You asshole!” Mel yelled, terror pitching her voice into a pitiful squeak. “Don’t ya shoot my brother!” 

And to add to Jared’s nightmares, she shoved Mark away from her twin. 

-*-

Not only Mr. and Mrs. Ellerman would thank all heavens from this day on, forever silently celebrating the joy of not losing a child. Maybe Mark was too stunned to fire; maybe he was moved by the display of sibling-devotion. Maybe the gun jammed – we’ll never know. For whatever reason, he watched Melanie Farland drop to her knees and while he still kept one of his weapons on brother and sister for a moment, his second one found a different target.

“You!” he snarled, grabbed Sally by the hair and pulled her up and away from Molly, who was whimpering and praying, coiling into herself in her hiding-place. Which wasn’t hiding anyone anymore.

“You whore!” he spat at Sally, followed by a literal glob of saliva into her face. “You betraying, sneakin’, stinkin’ skank!” He pulled her pony-tail roughly until she screamed and had to stand on her toes. She whimpered, begging ‘please, please, please, oh please, oh Lord, please’ non-stop. Mark shook her, hard and brutal until he shoved her away from him.

“I sh- sh- should never ever laid a hand on ya, you ugly piece of cunt!” he yelled and to emphasize his point, kicked her in the belly. She coughed and wheezed in pain, dropped nearly on top of the Farlands where Mel grabbed her shoulder and tried to calm her down, tried to make her stop wailing in terror. The gun unerringly found Sally’s face and Mark’s arm stopped shaking, his face frozen in determination.

 

“Stop, Mark. Please, man, just stop.” Jared ignored Jensen’s frantic hisses, the tugging on his hand to please, get back down. “Stop, you don’t really wanna do this.” There was no explanation for this stupidity, for the strange bravery that’d spread through his guts, that made him stand up and call to his former pal. Jay stood tall and strong even though his insides were a pile of ice-cold goo. Trying to look as determined as Mark, he squared his jaw and kept his voice low and soothing and hopefully free of fear even though his limbs were shaking in terror.

“Jared? Ah, and how would you know how I feel? Huh? You di’n’t even listen when I wan’ed to tell ya, you have no fucking clue -” his voice pitched to a scream, a roar “- how I feel. You don’t kn-kn-know anything. Nobody knows a damn thing!”

For a split-second, Jay thought about telling Mark that he’d read the chat. A split-second, in which scenarios ran through his mind as to how that’d play out. Sadly, none of them ended with Mark dropping his pistols and giving up. So he didn’t. 

“I should’ve listened, man, but I didn’t. I’m sorry, I w- am your friend. I should have, but I didn’t. But you don’t wanna kill anyone here, not really. Mark, I know you don’t want to kill anyone anymore.”

Mark turned his head, a strange, birdlike motion, like trying to see Jared’s point from a different angle. He shook his head and a sad, lonely look crossed his face.

“Sorry, Jared.” He looked back over at Sally. “But I do.” 

And he shot the still whimpering girl point-blank in the head. 

-*-

Mel screamed when the bullet exiting her friend’s head sprayed her brother, her face, her hair and the wall behind them with blood and tissue, grey, wiggly matter decorating everything and tastelessly clashing with Sally’s pink sweater. As sudden as she started the scream Mel stopped, shaking and staring in mute horror at her unconscious brother, who was covered in blood now, and the dead eyes of Sally McMillan, which she’d see in dreams to come for years and years, no matter how far she ran, no matter how much her parents paid for counseling. 

“No!” Jay yelled and he lunged to get to his girlfriend, just as something – Jensen – kicked his legs away from under him and he dropped painfully to the floor, cracking his head on the hard linoleum. The shot, roughly aimed at his chest, went wide and hit something metallic far behind them.

“You were supposed to be my friend, you were supposed to listen!” Mark screeched, his voice breaking and varying between too loud to understand and too low. He stalked over with seemingly wooden legs, his pistols held in front of him in a sure grip. ‘I’m dead’ Jared thought. ‘I’m dead, and I don’t even know why.’

But the gun – both guns – didn’t point at his head. Instead, they were aimed at Jensen, who, like him, lay on his back from where he’d gotten Jared down and away from the lethal bullet. His friend was pale, shaking and maybe he too had wet his jeans. Jared wasn’t so certain that his own boxers were still clean either, terror shooting through his marrow, the belief that this was the end, that just before he died he’d be forced to watch all his friends be killed, watch his best friend be murdered only inches from him. He couldn’t move, didn’t actually want to die first, either, but he grabbed Jensen’s hand and squeezed, silently promising to be there, stay close, stick to him until it was over. 

Only because they were so close, maybe only because he felt the vibrations through their clasped hands did he hear Jensen say ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ over and over. It didn’t really make any sense, because what the fuck was Jensen sorry for, what the hell could he’ve possibly done to cause Mark to flip – they hadn’t known each other except for swim-practice, and Jens had stopped swimming years ago.

“You… you! You took my friend away! Don’t try t’ deny it, it ‘as you. Suddenly Jay’s more int’rested in the freak, in the cocksucking little freak, the … the…. The … in you!” Mark shook with anger, with disgust, with pain and fear and terror, maybe, but with fury and madness winning over any sane emotion that might still be in the teen. “You’re the cause, you’re the reason! You witched him away from me and us. You’ll pay” he spat “for all that! You hi-hi-hideous freak!”

“No,” Jared whispered, but his voice didn’t carry farther than Jensen and the only response he got was a squeeze of his hand. ‘No no no no no’ he thought, ‘no no no not Jens, please, no’

Jared closed his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

“Drop the gun, kid!”

A jerk from Jensen and the new sound yanked Jay back to reality and his eye-lids shot open, nearly at their own accord. A different, a deep voice full of authority had spoken from behind them. Jared saw Mark flinch, saw him look up and for some inexplicable reason, he followed his line of sight. 

Not one, but three dark-clothed men stood in the door and a quick look confirmed that the other entrances were similarly covered, that three more men had moved between Mark and the Farlands, one of them attempting to pry Kevin from Melanie’s grip while they tried to get them moving, tried to get them away. They wore full SWAT-gear; bullet-proof vests, boots and gloves, helmets but no face-masks. They carried heavy weapons, rifles pointed at Mark, keeping him in sight but not yet shooting. 

Between the three in the main doorway stood a man in a simple bullet-proof vest. He wore plain clothes, jeans and strangely enough a red woolen sweater with a snow-flake-pattern. His thinning brown hair was a bit messed up and he looked more like a man on his way to a Christmas-party or a skiing-vacation than a police-officer. His voice was calm and soothing, carrying without problems even though the man didn’t raise it one bit over average talking-volume. 

“Mark, come on. Drop the gun. We could talk a bit, huh?” Enticing, and Jared was sure that had he been in Mark’s place, he’d tell the stranger everything. “Those your friends, there?” the Officer – negotiator, Jay suddenly realized; they were in a hostage situation, a fact that hadn’t really registered until now - pointed to Jensen and Jared. ‘No’, he thought. ‘Not friends, not both, maybe me’

Mark shook his head. “No. Not my friends” His voice sounded strange, empty when it had been full of emotion before. “Jay, he’s kinda my friend. But friends stick with each other, don’t they?”

“Yes. If possible. But sometimes, they can’t.”

“If possible? I di’n’t make ’t ‘mpossible. Was still possible. So, no. Not my friends, then. Jay didn’t stick with me.” He swayed a bit, like a reed in the wind. 

“Mark. Mark, look at me.” Astoundingly, Mark did. “Listen. I don’t know what happened. I have sadly no idea what or who did wrong with you. I will help you, if you’ll let me. You could talk to me, if you want to, or I could call your parents. Would you like that? Yes?” he confirmed at the slight, miniscule nod he’d spotted. “But look, Mark, this? This isn’t a good way to find a solution.”

“Solution?” Mark looked around, taking his time to see every speck of blood, every corpse and every remaining kid – every man in the room. “I don’t think there is a solution” His voice was dead, creeped Jared out like nothing’d ever done before. He felt the shudder pass through Jensen, noticed then that Mark’s grip had firmed, his aim re-set on his friend’s forehead. Jensen kept looking at Mark, didn’t take his eyes off him like he owed him something – as if there was a silent promise or maybe forgiveness passed along that look. There was only a fleeting glimpse to Jared, but even that split-second carried enough meaning for Jay to get it.

Jensen was saying goodbye.

The bullet hit true and deadly, shattering bones and ripping tissue with as much difficulty as a hot knife had ripping through butter.

-*-

Jared felt his friend jerk throughout his hand, all along his arm and into his shoulder to his heart. He’d been so sure that he’d kept his eyes on Jens but found that he hadn’t, that the shot rang through the darkness of his closed lids. With a start and a sudden yell he opened them, staring at the ceiling and listening to the shouting and loud calls from the police, the orders given and affirmed. 

He didn’t want to see his friend’s eyes, didn’t want to see the green dulling and dying. He knew he was crying, shaking, but his brain didn’t process more than the mere facts. ‘Jensen is dead, I killed my friend, he is dead, he is dead, he’s deaddeaddeaddead…’ 

“Kid, hey, kid, come on, get up. Come on, it’s over; calm down. Calm down” didn’t register. He heard it, but it didn’t reach far.

“Jay?” The whispered question, however, yanked him into the Now and Here faster than light. He hadn’t noticed it but his death-grip on Jensen’s hand had actually been returned through his whole freak-out. Jensen wasn’t dead. Jensen wasn’t dead?

“Jens?” He turned around and there was his best friend, there were those green eyes, troubled, hurt, devastated and surprisingly dry. The dark kohl and black hair tinted Jens’ face in a deathly yellow and there was blood… 

There was blood on his cheek. 

Jared dared to move some more, rising to his elbows and taking a look-see. He wished he hadn’t when he spotted Mark lying dead, head turned sideways and his empty gaze directed at Jared, still pleading for something Jay wouldn’t ever know.

Mark’d fallen backwards when he’d been hit in the chest, shot by two or three officers simultaneously. Jay’d later hear from his uncle that Chris Roman, the negotiator, had given a signal to shoot when he’d recognized there was no getting to Mark, but right now, all that he saw, knew and realized was that Mark was dead and Jensen wasn’t. All that he saw was that his former team-mate had been so close to Jens, must have been standing over Jensen’s midrift, that his dead body lay half on Jensen’s feet and that the smooth shine on the black boots was, in fact, pooling blood.

He twisted away and violently vomited on one of the medic’s shoes. 

-*-

What happened afterwards was a big blur; twisting colors and voices and sensations. He clung to Jensen’s hand through all the hustle of the medics and officers, through the questions he couldn’t answer and the keening sobs of Melanie or Molly who mourned the death of her friend. He knew that he should be sad like them but he couldn’t be. He was detached, walking on air and rubbery legs, not feeling the pinprick of the needle that injected warmth into his veins. Even though the world blurred even further after, he gripped Jens’ fingers harder, determined to not let go, to not let anybody rip the last piece of sanity, the last thing that made sense in his scrambled brain away from him. 

He was aware of people touching him, speaking to him. Or maybe they were speaking to Jensen, he couldn’t tell. Somewhere in the deep folds of his brain he noticed Jensen’s voice, maybe answering those questions that didn’t make sense? When someone tried to pry his hands away from his friend, though, he clearly heard Jens growl in warning. It made him feel lighter, knowing that he wasn’t a burden to him ‘cause he sure couldn’t let go even if he were. 

-*-

“Jared!” He knew that voice. It shook him awake from his stupor like nothing else, every instinct turning towards it. “Jay! Let me go, you fool, that’s my son over there! If you…” he heard the warning and some weird part of his mind kept thinking: ‘hey, so this is what they mean about stepping between a mother-bear and her cubs’. But his own reaction was instantaneous, like that of said bear-cub.

“Mom” he called. “Mom…”

Jared felt Jensen slacken his grip but he still wasn’t ready to give up the solace it offered, so he just squeezed it again and Jens stopped the withdrawal. So it was that when his mother grabbed him and held him and hugged the bejesus out of him, she also included Jensen in her embrace.

“Jared, when I heard… he-heard…“she sobbed, clinging harder and harder to her son. “Are you ok? Tell me you’re ok. Jared, tell me you’re fine!” Suddenly the hug was gone and his mom had him by the shoulders, shaking him – not altogether gentle.

“He’s gonna be fine, Mrs. P.” Jensen whispered, not daring to be too loud and interrupt her motherly flip-out too much.

“Oh my God – Jensen” she turned her gaze to him – only for a second before she was back to soaking up her own son’s features, memorizing them for whatever might come in the future. “I saw Donna in front, she’ll be here soon. Don’t…” she sobbed a bit more.

“Mom, it’s ok. I’m fine. We…” for the first time since he’d lost his breakfast Jay looked at his friend’s face, taking in the pallor and deep shock set in his eyes. The tiny guy that lived in his head kicked him and told him that Jensen’d been hanging on to his own calm only for the sake of Jay. Now that someone else was there, was able to keep Jared sane, Jens was starting to shake, losing focus and staring into space, just as Jay had done moments before. “We’re both gonna be fine. I’m not hurt, Jens isn’t hurt. Right?” he shook his friend’s hand, demanding a response. “Jens?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. No. Nothing’s… it’s not… I think…” The black-clad boy’s motions were birdlike, fast movements of his head, gaze flickering up, down and somewhere else entirely, where no-one else could follow. Jensen gripped his jeans, over and over pinching the cloth and lifting it up and away from his skin and only then did Jared notice that it was damp – blood-soaked. It wasn’t probably all Mark’s; he distantly recalled that they’d passed many injured and dead kids on their way to the cafeteria and that Jensen’d been interacting with them while he himself had been too focused to find…

“Megan! Mom, where…” he frantically looked around, took in the police-officers and teachers, medics and what he later learned were trauma-counselors milling in the room. Students crying and sobbing, parents wailing, shouting out in grief and loss or in stark relief and Megan wasn’t among them, where was she, where was his sister!

“Jay, it’s ok, she’s fine. She’s with Bill, Jared, it’s ok, it’s ok, I swear she’s fine. Just a bit shaken, but she wasn’t –“Sherry swallowed hard “-not as close to … it as you.” 

“Jensen!” Without warning, or at least none Jay’d been able to pick up, Donna Ackles ripped her son from the gurney they were sitting on and pressed him to her chest so hard that Jay was pulled down and to the ground. The shock of suddenly sitting on the linoleum shook the last cobwebs of unreality from his mind and only left elation. Jared sat on the floor, still gripping Jensen’s hand with his right, his mother’s with his left hand and looked up in the astonished, slightly puzzled eyes of his friend. 

He watched Jensen sag in his mother’s arms, saw his pupils dilate and his eyes roll up in his head, shock finally getting the better of him and his brain shutting down, demanding a time-out. 

Jared watched Donna move her son in her arms, calmly taking his pulse and just holding him tight. He felt his mom pull him up in her arms and for a while – hours? Minutes? He couldn’t say – the four of them sat in front of the school on two squeaky stretchers and just breathed.

Megan and Bill coming over and joining them was the last thing Jared was aware of that day.

 

The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this from Jared's POV. And this was Jared's story. To get the story behind Jensen, we have to hear HIM tell it - so "Darken your clothes" is Jensen's POV


End file.
